His Turk Ways
by WolfPhantoms
Summary: Tifa never expected to become a victim of a stalker. While the secrets of the stalkers take light, Tifa must hire a bodyguard for protection and face a grimming reality of the importance of love. VxT
1. Hired

**A/N: This story is for Erin Ashlyn who won the Vin/Tif story for being the 190th reviewer on my other story, Show and Tell. Which I promise will recieve an update very soon! And here it is... I hope everyone enjoys and please, drop a review on the way out! Thanks for reading!**

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An explosion shook Seventh Heaven down to the very foundation and Tifa jumped away from the bright red leather. She never knew her heart could fly at such speeds as her eyes instinctively looked towards the back of the bar… where the kitchen laid… where white powder swirled away from the blast site…

"Uh, Tifa? I did it again!" Yuffie's small voice rose from the serving window. A light cough followed as she escaped from the smoky haze, her hand cupped over her mouth while her whole body was covered in the white powder.

Tifa couldn't help, but chuckle at the young ninja. "Yuffie, you should see yourself. You look like a ghost." With those words, the martial artist doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach as tears pooled at her eyes. Even after her horrible day, the ninja managed to cheer her mood.

"This isn't funny! Come on Tifa," Yuffie whined, struggling to dust herself off. "If you would have helped me, this wouldn't have happened. All I'm trying to do is bake a blasted cake!"

"Blasted is the right word to use," Tifa snickered once more. She ducked as Yuffie swung at her.

"What happened to you?!"

Both women glanced at the open door, blinking at the sunlight shining through. A tall figure stepped inside, a strong hand reaching up to grasp the cigarette between his teeth. Yuffie straightened and pointed at him. "Cid Highwind, if you even dare talk to me about this, so help me, I'll kick your ass!"

The pilot paused a bit, considering her words before flailing his arms wildly. "A ghost!" he cried, bouncing around in place while his arms writhed like snakes.

"You've got to be kiddin' me," Yuffie mumbled, slapping her hand against her white forehead; a small puff of powder dispersing off her body from the force.

Tifa shook her head and smiled at Cid while he continued to do his funky rain dance. Another figure came up behind the oblivious Cid and slipped into the shadows by the door. Crimson eyes studied the strange jig before they rolled almost through the gunman's skull.

"Cid, if you call that a _dance_, then I suggest you take dancing lessons," Vincent recommended. Cid instantly ceased his wiggling and stared defiantly at the demon host.

"Oh, so you're telling me that someone like _you_ can dance?" The pilot tilted his head.

"I never said that I don't dance. I merely prefer not to," Vincent shrugged and strode over to one of the red leather booths. Without a second glance, he settled himself against the cushions and stared emptily at the others.

"So does that mean that I can't see you shake your butt Vinny?" Yuffie piped up, a small smile creeping onto her white face.

"One reason why I prefer not to dance," the gunman growled. His gold claw came up to cross with his other arm, the gauntlet glinting in the small strands of light.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Cloud Strife."

Tifa again looked towards the door, still ajar. Apparently Cid didn't know how to close them… Standing idly was a young man in a business suite, with an envelope clutched tightly in one hand. A brown mess sat atop his head and purple eyes examined the strange lot critically.

"We know _a_ Cloud Strife," Yuffie pointed out cheerfully, dodging Tifa's glare as she quickly slipped back into the pure white kitchen.

"I'm sorry, but he is away on business. Can I help you?" Tifa nodded politely, doing her best not to chase after the young ninja and swat her one.

"Are you Tifa Lockhart?" The man's eyes squinted.

"Yes."

In an instant, the man's face brightened considerably. His large smile stood out against his dark skin and as he approached, Tifa welcomed the enthusiastic smile with one of her own. "My name is Orlando, and I am a representative for Edge High School. I am here to give an invitation to the Avalanche Team."

Yuffie squealed in the kitchen and ducked as everyone looked at her through the serving window. Orlando's smile widened at the young ninja before returning back to Tifa. "This year, the students chose the heroes of the planet as their Prom theme and as part of it, they are asking for you to make an appearance. Everything is explained in the letter and invitation." He gingerly held out the letter which Tifa took politely.

"If you haven't noticed _sir_, most of the team isn't here." Tifa's spine tingled as Vincent spoke, his low growl a warning to the intruder.

"Oh Vinny, don't be such a dork," came Yuffie's smart reply. Tifa stifled a smirk as Vincent's head spun towards the kitchen, his flaming eyes narrowing with unspeakable rage.

"It is understandable if all of you cannot make it. But we have given a four day notice. Maybe that will help," Orlando said weakly, his voice growing softer with each word spoken. Tifa could understand… Vincent was a mysterious man with untold secrets deep within those blood red eyes.

She blinked as Vincent carefully returned to looking at the young man. "It may help, but I will not partake in such… duties. You will have the Avalanche team, or most of it."

"Oh come on Vince," Cid moaned beside the door, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a smirk. "Think of all the fun you'll be missing and –."

"All the girls you won't be able to look at!" Yuffie shouted from somewhere in the kitchen.

Again, Vincent spun, "Yuffie, you stay out of this." Returning to Cid, he tilted his head. "That also includes you, Cid Highwind. You may not intrude on my decisions."

Holding up her hands, Tifa rushed forward, hoping to raise peace within her little kingdom. "All of you, just knock it off. If Vincent doesn't want to go, he doesn't have to!" Glancing towards Orlando, she nodded for the door. "Thank you, I will call when I have word of our decision."

Orlando didn't waste time in leaving and after giving a brief wave, he disappeared into the crowded streets of Edge. Once he was gone, Yuffie's white head appeared again in the serving window. "He was kinda cute," she noted before slipping away from the stares.

"So, Tifa," Cid began, finally closing the door to give them peace from the bustling city. With his back against the old wood, he inhaled deeply, "Why'd you call us here?"

The martial artist winced, her arms hugging her in comfort. "I need your help."

She didn't know Cid could move so fast. He was instantly at her side, putting a calm hand on her shoulder. "It doesn't have to deal with Cloud, does it?"

"I'm-I'm not sure," she replied softly, avoiding eye contact while wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Tifa," Vincent said lowly from where he sat. "What is it?"

"Someone almost tried to kill me today."

The table groaned as Vincent stood, ignoring anything in his path. In one swift movement, he was to the door with a hand against Cerberus' handle. He would have fit well in a spy movie, she had to hand him that. With his eyes dark and angry, he stood with his back to the door; head tilted to the side case anyone might be breathing outside.

"And?" Cid whispered once their attention was drawn away from the still man against the door.

"They almost succeeded. I managed to punch some guy's lights out that's for sure." She laughed nervously. "Yuffie's been keeping me company, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do now. They might come back."

"Well, I have work to do, so you know I can't stay here, but what if I hired you some protection?" Cid thought with one eyebrow raised.

Tifa backed away to eye him, "Protection?"

"Yeah, just so you ain't alone," he continued fervently. "I mean, Yuffie might be good company, but she's a princess. Who knows when she has to rush out. So, what if I hired you someone who would be by your side through it all?"

"I think I'm going to die," Tifa mumbled. "Cid, we are not hiring Reno and Rude if that's what is on your mind."

"Those two idiots can't even tell what's up and what's down," the pilot agreed. "No, what I was thinking…" he trailed off, turning around until Tifa followed his gaze.

"So Vincent," Cid put on one of his friendliest smiles. "How much gil are you interested in?"

If they had been in any other situation, Tifa would have laughed. Vincent stared at them with a rare display of emotion that pretty much told them 'you've got to be kidding'. With wide red eyes, the gunslinger blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Watch over Tifa. I mean, you don't do anything productive, unless I haven't heard about it… You were a Turk and know more about assassination than anyone else. You're perfect. Tifa even knows you and we trust you with our lives."

"I'm touched," came the dry reply. "Never thought you saw me so highly Cid."

"We love ya!" Yuffie screeched.

"Shut the hell up back there!" Cid shouted back. "Go bake your damn cake!"

"I don't want to, it's for my old man anyway!"

Tifa stepped forward. For once, Cid had an idea. If Vincent was hired to become her bodyguard, she wouldn't have to watch her back twenty four-seven and the children wouldn't question it. She could live life and act as though nothing was happening while Vincent could help keep an eye on things. He noticed unusual behavior quicker than most anyways. "Please Vince, I need this," she said softly.

She watched with a fast beating heart as Vincent tilted his head, eyes gentle as he brooded it over. "Consider me hired… just don't… pay me."

A smirk formed on Cid's lips. "Alright! Now we're getting somewhere!"


	2. Taking The Bullet

**A/N: So here's another update. Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter and I promise, this chapter is a little more exciting than the first. And maybe a little more humorous too. Please review, I love all comments.**

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"So, do we have descriptions for these bastards, or are we just going to call them 'bad guys'?" Cid snorted, blue eyes shifting for Tifa in expectation. The martial artist had wandered behind the counter of the bar and she was scrubbing furiously against the wood with what shouldn't have been considered a rag. Her deep mahogany eyes were focused on the gunman standing defiantly in front of the window. Vincent didn't even notice that she was gawking at him. Cid looked between Vincent and Tifa and inhaled until the tip of his cigarette was red hot.

"Tifa, do you think they'll come back?" The pilot continued, swirls of smoke curling from his nostrils as he exhaled. Propping his feet upon a table, he leaned back into the cushions of the booth and examined Tifa impatiently.

"Who knows," she replied softly, her eyes still attentive on Vincent's unmoving form.

"When's Cloud comin' home?"

"Who knows."

Cid's brow furrowed and his teeth worked furiously at the cigarette between his teeth. "Do you think Vincent's gonna sleep with ya?" A giggle came from the kitchen and Cid exchanged a small smile with the ninja. Yuffie's slender form leaned against the doorframe leading into the kitchen, her arms folded while she smirked at the back of Tifa's head.

"Who knows."

A dry grin formed on his lips. Even with his absurd question, Vincent was still focused on his new job and Tifa was acting like an idiot. "Tifa, do you think it will be raining chocobos tonight?" Yuffie slammed her hand over her mouth with an audible slap.

"Who knows."

A growl came from the front window where Vincent stood watch. Maybe his questions were getting to the gunman after all… Crimson shifted as Vincent turned around and with one eyebrow raised; focused on Tifa who snapped from her daydreaming. "Tifa," his monotone voice seemed to vibrate her very soul. "You have been wiping the very same spot for the past five minutes."

A blush rose onto her cheeks as her gaze faltered down to the rag she strangled in her grasp. Dropping it, she backed away a little. "Sorry," she said softly. Vincent grunted in response and returned his gaze back out the window.

"Yo Vince, don't ya think you're taking this a little too seriously?" Cid frowned. "I mean, it's not like they're just goin' to waltz right through the door. The bar's closed as it is."

"I prefer to keep things in order. Besides, murderers are not to be taken lightly. Especially ones that I am unfamiliar with."

"And what does that mean?" Yuffie chortled. "You become familiar with the bad guys Vinny?" The same hand that had struck her face reached up to brush black strands away from her eyes. Crossing her ankles as she leaned her full weight into the doorway, she smiled at Vincent's back.

"I become accustomed to their strategies. I am able to predict which move they shall make next."

"I am so glad I'm with you Vinny. Wouldn't want to be a bad guy," Yuffie piped up cheerfully before striding over to nudge Tifa in the side. "Help me bake this damn cake before I go ballistic in your kitchen. I might just throw your oven out the door, you know."

Tifa chuckled and slowly led Yuffie into the kitchen, leaving the men to ponder quietly. Then again, Cid was never a quiet thinker. "You going to take care of her Vince?"

"Didn't I agree to that earlier?" He rumbled, slowly turning on his heel and retreating to where Cid sat. The gunslinger groaned as he settled into a chair and his golden gauntlet clanked onto the table separating them.

"Yeah, but I'm just worried for her that's all."

"I am also."

"Don't think of any funny ideas while you two are alone either. I might just come back and shoot you right between the eyes with your own gun if I find out you've been doin' shit," Cid shook a finger at him while fumbling in his pocket with the other hand. Upon finding his pack of cigarettes, he played with the plastic box for a while.

"Your inability to aim would prove to be your weakness in that particular matter."

"Smart ass," Cid mumbled.

Vincent blinked at the rugged pilot. "Dumb ass," he mumbled quietly, the tips of his clawed fingers tapping against the sun stained wood.

The fading cigarette between Cid's teeth dropped as his jaw fell. Vincent's hidden smirk vanished just as quickly as it had appeared and the gunman innocently blinked. Cid, however, continued to try and speak, but his voice apparently had gone. Shaking his head dazedly, he got up from the booth and wandered aimlessly towards the door. "I'll- I'll talk to you guys later. I- I got some… things that I need to do."

A blast of warm summer air rushed into the cooled bar as the door opened and Cid was left to blink at the sudden exposure to sunlight. Glancing back, he stared unblinking at Vincent. "I can't believe you just made a joke." With that, he briskly walked out and slammed the door roughly behind him.

No one heard Vincent chuckle as he drew odd shapes with his golden fingers on the table. _Cid is correct… I need to relax about this. I should not startle Tifa with my… unique ways._ He mused. Soft voices carried out from the kitchen as the two women spoke to each other and Vincent was soon drawn into their conversation. Curiosity swept him over and he found himself striding delicately for the kitchen. Sidestepping around the bar counter he quietly slipped into the kitchen entry to observe.

The second explosion from the kitchen came without warning as Yuffie pressed a blinking green button upon a fairly large mixer. Flour spewed forth from the large bowl underneath, encasing all who were within the blasting radius. Sadly, when Vincent reopened his eyes, he too was covered in the white powder. Looking down upon himself, he blinked at the grey color his leather uniform had become.

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"Oops," Yuffie whispered in awe, her attention still focused on the finger against the button that had caused the mess.

Tifa coughed as the remaining flour settled. "And here I thought we were done with messes today," she mumbled, turning around and freezing in mid-step. There Vincent was, covered head to toe in white powder and looking rather mystified. Without glancing back, Tifa silently tapped Yuffie on what she thought was her shoulder.

"What?" The ninja snapped before silence engulfed them.

As Vincent's crimson eyes rose to meet Tifa's, Yuffie startled both as she entered fits of laughter. Even with her cawing, Tifa could feel the humiliation radiating off the gunslinger. Vincent was a gentleman, and one unaccustomed to accidents and mistakes such as these. He preferred not to be the laughing stock, especially when dealing with Yuffie.

Even though he did look quite comical, Tifa refused to laugh. His eyes stood out in contrast to the white that covered him and emotion flowed within their depths. They quickly averted to the nearest thing to him which ended up as the stove.

"Excuse me," he said softly before swiftly disappearing around the corner. Still laughing hysterically, Yuffie paid no heed to his escape, but Tifa certainly did. Swallowing down her own embarrassment, she rushed out of the kitchen after him, following the stains of flour along the wooden floor to the upper floor.

It wasn't hard to find him, for he hadn't been trying to hide. He was standing stiffly in the farthest corner of the hallway, his back pressed up against the wall and his arms crossed heavily on his chest. With each hesitant step, Tifa came closer to him, though she wasn't as silent as he was.

Red orbs flashed as they rose to watch her come forward, his unmoving and almost threatening gaze causing her to falter. "Hey Vince," she smiled weakly for him. "Kinda interesting isn't it? Yuffie can't cook worth squat. You know, you didn't have to disappear like that. It isn't like you killed someone who was innocent."

"I've done that already Tifa."

The martial artist blinked, but pressed on; determined to bring him back into the light. "You can take a shower, there's a bathroom just in this doorway here," she nodded towards her own bedroom door next to him. He didn't even follow her gaze. Sighing, she reached up and scratched her head. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you Vince?"

"I had believed it to be an explosion from your stalkers," he said softly, still brave enough to keep eye contact with her.

"That's okay, everybody makes mistakes now and again," she stood directly in front of him; refraining her fingers to reach up and brush away the flour from his face.

"I am dealing with a life, I cannot make a mistake, especially when that life is yours," he mumbled. Quickly his hand waved in front of him. "I have been speaking too much, my apologies."

Tifa quit. Reaching up, she cupped his face to hold him in front of her, feeling her blood boil underneath her skin. "Vincent, knock it off already. Speak dammit! Stop sulking and have some fun for once. I hate that!" Sighing with frustration, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "I hate that," she repeated firmly.

Unexpectedly the whole building suddenly vibrated with another explosion that forced her ears to wail afterwards. Vincent spun just as the sound rocked the walls around them, forcing her into the corner while debris pebbled his back and littered the floor. Heat scorched her senses as Tifa's muddled mind struggled to comprehend all that had occurred. Smoke danced through the hallway as Vincent pressed himself closer, his furious eyes glancing behind him to examine the extent of the damage.

"Yuffie!" Tifa cried, struggling to get past Vincent's lean, yet strong frame. His claw reached up to grasp her wrist and her struggling slowed at the sudden pressure.

"Come with me," he snarled before pulling her along towards the stairs, only to find that the stairs had been blown away. Skidding to a halt, Tifa nearly fell down the fifteen foot drop if not for the numbing grip Vincent kept on her wrist. Glancing back towards him, she snatched her wrist away from him.

"I've gotta find Yuffie!" She snapped before jumping down onto the pile of splintered planks that was once upon a time a grand staircase. Feeling pain shoot up her leg she winced, but continued through the haze of heat, frantically searching for her friend. Vincent's shouts faded into the back of her head as she trudged for the kitchen, blinking through watery eyes. Fire lapped at her feet as she surged ahead until reaching the caved in kitchen doorway.

Her stomach dropped and her clawed hands dug away and the broken wood and metal. "Yuffie, hang on!" she cried, coughing afterwards at the large amounts of smoke. A hand came upon her shoulder, but she didn't even flinch. The hand tightened its grip and spun her around, forcing her to come face to face with a masked man, a white plastic cover hiding his features from her.

"Tifa Lockhart, you're time's up."

A small handgun was placed directly between her eyes, the darkness of the barrel a haunting. The safety clicked and Tifa waited for the end. Instead, a flash of crimson enveloped her and though the shot of the gun echoed in the burning building, she felt no pain and no death. Instead, she felt a heavy weight lunge into her and the color crimson intensified. Grasping at the front of Vincent's shirt to keep him balanced she stared at him in complete horrification.

Vincent Valentine had taken the bullet.

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**A/N: And I'll leave you guys hanging for a while...**

**Drop a review on the way out please! I could really use the feedback.**

**Until next time,**

**J**


	3. Humble Abode

**A/N: Because I have such writer's block on Show and Tell, I decided to upload another chapter for this story. So here's another chapter to help those who have been hanging. I had trouble writing this chapter, so I would appreciate all the reviews. I am interested in what everybody thinks for we have finally got this plot running! Vincent might be a little OOC, but that's for you to decide. I personally don't think so, but hey, I'm the writer. So readers, tell me if Vincent sounds kinda strange.**

**Alright, I'll stop blabbering now...**

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Tifa's nails dug deep into the worn leather as Vincent slumped forward, her frantic cries to somehow draw him back to reality landing on deaf ears. Looking past the crown of the gunman's skull, she swallowed the remaining wetness on her tongue. The masked man, with cold brown eyes stared into her unblinking. 

"His life was wasted on something such as you," the man snorted, raising the small handgun once more for Tifa's forehead.

Trembling, Tifa's gaze lowered back down to Vincent, raven locks spilling down to obscure his face. Pushing into him to keep him upright, Tifa grunted as cold metal brushed up against her bare midriff. Refraining herself from gasping, Tifa blinked in wonderment as Vincent's head rose slowly with crimson hues afire with anger. Focusing on her, he barely blinked as the safety from the handgun was clicked.

"Find Yuffie," He growled before spinning to face the intruder with one leg raised until the sharpened point of his boot slammed into the man's side. The sheer force of Vincent's maneuver sent the masked man tumbling into the rubble, splintered wood cutting up clothing and the unprotected flesh underneath. The man howled in agony as he struggled to stand, thick pieces of wood lodged deep within his thighs and arms.

Glancing one last time at Vincent, who was already approaching the whimpering man with fury, she too, spun in place to return digging for Yuffie. Her throat tightened with the black smoke as she worked along, pushing through the debris and obtaining cuts along the way from broken metal and wood combined. Squinting through the hazy air, she coughed harshly.

"Yuffie? Where are you?" Covering her mouth, Tifa stepped over the fallen fridge, sliding down it back to what seemed as solid ground. Behind her, a gun sounded and she instinctively flinched. Who had been shot this time?

"Tifa!"

Looking ahead, a pile of wooden planks moved and Yuffie's small frame appeared as the pieces tumbled to the ground. Rushing to her friend, Tifa embraced the ninja fiercely, tears cleaning small portions of her face. "You're alright!" she breathed, squeezing Yuffie once more before moving away.

"Sorry, can't get rid of me that easily," Yuffie chuckled nervously, jumping as timber toppled from the ceiling to land beside them.

"Can you walk?" Tifa questioned, looking at the gash across Yuffie's right cheek with a frown.

"Besides few cuts and bruises I'm fine. But let's get outta here before the whole building collapses," the ninja whimpered, coughing afterwards with a fist covering her mouth.

"Let's," Tifa agreed before gripping Yuffie's hand and pulling her gingerly across the rubble. Focusing on their exit between two fallen planks, Tifa ignored everything else. The sound of hungry fire consuming everything in its path merely became a soft buzz and even Yuffie's hoarse coughing became nothing more than a whisper. Grimacing, Tifa shouldered a timber away from their path, feeling the fire lick the exposed skin on her arms.

Tumbling upon the kitchen doorway once more, Tifa pushed the young ninja through before slipping out herself, gasping for clean air in the horrible mess. Crawling under two deformed steel beams, her voice slipped past her lips in a cry. Flames began to nip at her flesh as she scrambled through and back into the bar, biting her lip to keep herself calm.

"Tifa, come on!" Yuffie shouted, though Tifa couldn't spot the ninja. Fear formed at the pit of her stomach as she ran ahead, looking for anything that would serve as an escape. Smoke blurred her vision, and her lungs grasped for each labored breath while groping hands slashed into the smoke in hopes to grasp some bearings.

_I'm gonna die here,_ Tifa thought fearfully as she looked for her friends. Stumbling through the remains of Seventh Heaven, she blinked as Vincent seemed to appear out of nowhere. Time slowed as he ran for her, his red eyes focused and determined while flames reached out for him.

His mouth seemed to be moving, yet Tifa heard nothing as he reached her side. Focusing on his pale lips above the cowl of his cloak, she blinked as sounds rushed back into her head.

"Tifa, come with me," he snarled, looking away to examine what she thought could be a possible exit. "Yuffie is safe outside," he added, as an afterthought. His gloved hand reached down and found her wrist once more while he began to move. Frightened and tired, Tifa stumbled along after him; very confused. Had she not gone in the correct direction?

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Vincent glanced back upon Tifa, frowning at her state of being and yet he understood that he could not do anything until they reached the outside. Looking ahead, his brow furrowed at the oncoming window, the pane still surprisingly intact. It wasn't his intended escape plan, but it would have to do. Slowing down, he released Tifa from his grip and instead wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers clutching his cloak to keep it around her.

"Hold on," he said lowly before launching himself forward, taking Tifa along with him. Ducking his head down, his shoulder smashed into the thick glass, shards flying around them as gravity sent their bodies tumbling for the sidewalk on the other side. Tightening his hold on Tifa's waist, he pulled her against him while his back met the hard sidewalk in a fierce greeting. Grunting at the impact, they both skidded to a halt at the edge of the sidewalk.

Sirens wailed as the fire team arrived, men rushing about to put out the flames though Vincent knew that Seventh Heaven would be no more. Looking up at the engulfed building, it was then that the roof finally crumbled, crashing through the two floors into a heap of wood and metal.

Sobs underneath his chin startled him from his revere and his grip softened on the martial artist. Sitting up, he pushed Tifa also into a sitting position beside him, his trained eyes examining the damage done. Her skin was blemished with blistering burns while cuts oozed fresh blood along her arms and legs. All would need medical attention, and Vincent only knew of one possible place that could keep her safe and cared for.

"Tifa," he said softly, lowering his head to see her bowed face. "We must leave here before trouble arises. I know of a place where we can stay for the night. Yuffie is safe and sound; however, she has left in search of Cid in hopes that he can take you and I to Kalm. You will be safer there."

"Oh Vince," Tifa whimpered as her body shook with sobs. "Everything is lost."

"And everything can be found again. You're bar shall be soon restored, but it is not safe here. The… men know of Seventh Heaven and now that it has been destroyed they shall look even harder for you."

Vincent's eyes rose to the oncoming men in fire suits. Glancing back upon Tifa, he stood, pulling his cloak from underneath her. "Come, we must go." Reaching down for her hand, he yanked her upright and briskly led her away from the shouting men.

"Denzel and Marlene… What about the children?" Tifa mumbled, her gait slowing as Vincent led her around the corner and into a private alley. Garbage bins littered the sides and old newspapers swirled about in small wind tornados as they moved along the small strip.

"I shall call a friend and they will take care of the children. They are not safe with us," Vincent replied, looking back upon Tifa expectantly. She had slowed considerably, a limp now visible in her walk. Though no cuts were noticeable, her purple ankle told otherwise. Vincent's chest rose for a sigh and he stopped to wait for her to reach him.

Once standing side by side with Tifa continuing to mumble incoherently, Vincent swooped down and plucked her off the ground. A startled gasp slipped past her lips while her hands instinctively reached up to cling to his cloak. "Sorry," she whispered weakly.

"You are experiencing trauma, do not apologize," Vincent grunted and began his fast walk once more.

"Where are we going?" she questioned, looking up at him curiously.

"My home."

"You live in Edge?" The surprise in her remark caused him to chuckle.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Quite a while," Vincent shrugged a little. As a busy road neared at the end of the alley, he sharply turned into another abandoned back road.

"Where?"

"You shall see…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She insisted, glaring at him halfheartedly.

Behind the cowl of his cloak, Vincent suppressed a smirk. "I prefer my… quiet moments. Besides, Yuffie would have learned about my wanderings and would have come to pester me once again."

"You're right there," Tifa sighed.

Rounding another corner, Vincent inhaled loudly as he approached his own home. After defeating Kadaj and his gang, Vincent had begun to respect the need for human contact and either out of sheer stupidity or genius; he purchased a fairly large house along the outskirts of Edge. Because the house was freshly built, the area surrounding the quiet abode was empty and Vincent was content with the solitude. In truth, the home was a little more than Vincent had wanted and many of the rooms were unused, but it reminded him of the mansion; which was one of the major reasons the quiet gunman purchased such a thing.

The two story house looming ahead dominated over the light and once underneath the bulk of brick, Vincent became more at peace. He preferred shadows than the brightness of light, for shadows hid more than they exposed.

Jumping the two steps for the front porch, the gunman carefully lowered Tifa to search his pockets for the keys. While rummaging, his eyes wandered up to Tifa who was staring at him in shock.

"What?" he snorted, blinking as his fingers bumped into something smooth and hard. Pulling the key out, he slipped it into the keyhole and twisted his wrist.

"You own a house," she whispered, her eyes traveling over the carved wood and neatly placed brick. Her fingers reached out and ran along the railing before returning to her side.

"I do," he agreed. With a gentle push the door swung open and he waited impatiently for her to enter. When she made no hasty attempts to enter his abode, he waved his arm for the door. "Please, I would rather you gawk inside."

She smiled at him and daintily stepped through the threshold, a gasp rushing from her throat in the process. Vincent, however, paid no heed to what had stunned her and quickly closed the door behind him. Striding for the grand staircase to his right, Vincent stood at the bottom in wait for her to follow.

"Vince, this place is beautiful!" She continued, limping to the other wall to examine the large marble fireplace. Leather chairs adorned the wooden floor surrounding it while windows splayed sunlight across the whole room. Vincent smirked as Tifa roamed the common room before wandering into the dining room, which wasn't too difficult. A wall didn't even separate the two rooms.

She turned to look at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "How did you pay for all this?"

"I do believe I have a job," Vincent snorted.

"This is amazing, and I haven't seen the whole thing yet." Her face softened and tears trickled down her face.

Realizing the past was catching up to her, Vincent nodded for the stairs. "I shall show you to your room if you like. You may freshen up and I will help you tend those wounds."

Tifa nodded at him and carefully limped up the steps. Vincent watched her go before swiftly pulling out his phone once she was out of sight. Another little trinket he had purchased- a cell phone; though he barely used the stupid thing. Cloud was the only one who had his number. For if Yuffie received it, his life would have changed drastically.

Dialing a familiar number, he held it up to his ear and began to pace. While the ringing continued, he looked down for the first time to the bullet wound on his left bicep. Switching the phone to his claw, he prodded the hole; pleased that the bleeding had ceased and the pain had become a simple numbing sensation. With the help of his entities, the wound would heal in time. Vincent didn't have time to be concerned for his own wellbeing. Tifa's life was at stake, and that was what mattered the most. Returning to his phone call, Vincent frowned at the constant ringing until-

"**Tseng speaking."**

The gunman smirked. "Tseng, I do believe you are still in debt to me."

"**Vincent Valentine. It's been a while hasn't it? And have you finally called me so I may clear my debt? Rescuing us from Kadaj is no laughing matter. I was surprised when you didn't take up my offer to serve under you in the first place. So, why have you called?"**

Vincent chuckled darkly. "I need you to baby-sit."

"**What did you just say?"**

* * *

**A/N: So... what does everybody think?! Please click that little button down there and let me know! Feedback is very... very good. It keeps me goin'.**

**Yours Truly,**

**J**


	4. A New Look

* * *

Tseng slowly scanned his surroundings while his brow furrowed in frustration. Of all assignments… babysitting shouldn't be one of them. A slender hand came to rest atop his shoulder, fingers squeezing the fabric of his suit. Cranking his head, he frowned upon Elena's gentle smile.

"We owe him this," she said softly, nodding towards the building across the grass. The orange glow from the lowering sun cast long shadows upon the withered brick, and the closed black doors threatened Tseng to retreat… and he thought the Shinra manor was nerve-wracking.

"They are children," Tseng warned. "Rufus won't be pleased."

"Nah, kids are easy! I love 'em!" Reno shouted, forcing a wince to flutter across Tseng's strong features. Looking past the blonde, he glared at the redhead.

"Only because you act like one of them," Rude interjected, glancing towards Tseng with a tinge of exasperation. He walked up to situate next to his obnoxious colleague with tense arms folded behind his back.

Reno ignored his partner's retort and strutted past them to stand directly in front of the cracked pavement leading towards the intimidating doors. "So, Denzel and Marlene," he muttered before the tip of his shoe scuffed across the pebbled sidewalk.

"I intend on bringing the children to Rufus. We'll be able to care for both the children and him," Tseng instructed, scowling at Reno's careless antics as the redhead dragged his feet across the ground, a grating noise following each movement.

"This'll be easy. You worry too much," Reno grinned, looking at each of his comrades in turn.

"I am afraid of why Vincent Valentine would request such a job," Elena sighed, her wrist rising up so she could view the small watch strapped to it.

"I agree," Rude added, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Hey," Reno said excitedly. "I spy with my eye…"

The others moaned loudly. Reno was already difficult to handle in some instances as it was… they didn't need anymore trouble. What did Vincent Valentine send them into?

* * *

Vincent stared unblinking at his raised claw, the golden digits curved into a fist in preparation to knock against dark wood. Directly on the other side; Tifa was crying her eyes out, an occasional sob sneaking through the crack underneath the door. The gunman's chest rose for another intake of air as he prepared himself to face something he preferred to avoid… emotions.

"Tifa," he called lowly, his gauntlet banging on the wood rather pitifully. The sobs beyond the door instantly ceased, and he felt his muscles coil. "We must care for your injuries," he continued.

_Next time, I won't put locks on the doors,_ he vowed, glaring at the golden handle with a new found hatred. Taking a few steps back until he was pressed up against the wall across the hall, he prepared to knock it down. Tifa was wounded and her safety was in his hands for Cid had given him the duty to protect her. He could not watch her die because he refused to act.

Tensing his shoulders he crouched to lunge forward and nearly tumbled to the ground when the door ahead opened. Blinking, he straightened and with slight embarrassment, he nodded respectfully.

"Tifa," he acknowledged, keeping his burning gaze upon her reddened face. Hesitantly, he raised his claw for her and swallowed any remaining wetness from his tongue. Her dark eyes lowered toward the gauntlet, staring at it intently… had it grown another finger? Glancing between her and his golden arm, he blinked. "You're supposed to take it," he said softly.

Tifa's arms rose to wrap around her while she broke her attention away from the armored arm to stare at him instead. "I don't have to," she replied and carefully retreated back into the guest bedroom. Her hand reached out towards the door and flicked it closed; not bothering to escort it to the doorframe.

Instinctively, Vincent stepped forward and prevented it from turning into a barrier, his claw rising to stop the door. The impact jarred the door and it vibrated to a halt. Tifa ignored the signal that he had entered and stepped across the room for the large panned windows. Glancing out towards the bleak horizon, a sigh broke the tension between them.

Vincent idly shifted from one foot to another, not even breaking the ice cold silence surrounding the room. _She must make the attempt to come to me, I cannot come to her. If she wishes to moan in pain, then so be it._ He winced at the thought, wondering how frozen his heart really was. This was Tifa, a dear friend and a pillar of strength for all who knew her, but her strength only carried so far. If Vincent was to be the one to hold her when she fell, or at least, for a while then he would do it.

Shaking his head at the jumble of thoughts, he pried his feet away from the floor. The clicking sound of his golden boots against the floor sent her head around to watch him closely. Vincent ignored her gaze and instead eyed the burns along her arms and legs, hot red flesh seemingly aglow with agony. Keeping Tifa's watchful gaze in the corner of his vision, his gloved hand following his side to grasp Cerberus' handle and remove it from its holster. The martial artist stiffened while Vincent fluidly moved the heavy pistol through the air between them until setting it down upon the window sill, the chain clinking against the wall underneath.

Again his gloved hand reached for the holster, digging deep where the barrel of Cerberus would lie. His brow furrowed as his hand ceased it's wiggling inside and he gingerly withdrew it to uncover a green sphere of materia. Spinning it within his fingers to examine every angle, he turned his attention to Tifa. "Here," he said soothingly, raising his gauntlet until the golden palm was exposed to the ceiling. Taking the green sphere, he lowered it into the awaiting claw, feeling the hot sensation of power surge through the metal and into his flesh as the sphere dissipated into nothing.

Energy rushed hot through his veins as the materia searched frantically for an outlet; shooting about his body in quick bolts. Blinking back the new awareness, Vincent stepped forward and waited for a reaction from Tifa. She barely flinched as she watched him, eyes wary at the old stunt. Raising his claw to her forearm, the golden digits flexed before his cold palm pressed against her irritated skin.

The materia was frozen for a brief moment, stunning his senses until it realized the exit. Pooling up into his gauntlet, the materia left him in a brief moment without a second glance. Sighing, Vincent moved back and studied the reddened skin. Just as he had hoped, the materia took hold and slowly, the cuts and burns began to disappear, old and new skin swirling until the injuries vanished.

Nodding his approval, Vincent snatched Cerberus and carefully re-holstered it before spinning on his heel to leave. Tifa's health was safe and now, with the materia energy gone Vincent staggered a moment at the door. Rubbing his face, he curtly turned the corner for his own room, determined to sleep the night away even if it did include some wretched nightmares.

* * *

Tifa looked down upon her limp arms, smiling as the familiar feeling of hot energy died. Raising her head, she frowned at the disappearance of crimson. _Can't even thank him,_ she mused. Looking about the room, she winced at the bed consuming the left side. Though it was quite large and would probably be comfortable right about now, she defiantly didn't want to enter the cozy warmth.

Turning to the right, she headed into the large mahogany door, keeping with the dark of the navy blue walls. Twisting the handle, she shoved it open and poked her head through the gap: the bathroom. Glancing down upon her attire, she winced as her dirty skin rubbed against the burned fabric. She needed a shower, or maybe her sooty skin would just fall off.

Entering the grey tiled room, she walked straight for the shower ahead, glass enveloping the small corner of the room. Pushing the doors away, she started the waterfall until steam shrouded the details of the grey tiles surrounding her.

Tifa turned in search of a towel and blinked in surprise of own reflection staring back at her. "Is that me?" She questioned, her reflection's mouth moving also. Tear stains traveled down her cheeks and soot covered her features. She could have been assumed as Chaos in an awkward kind of way. A female Chaos… poor Vincent would probably swallow a chocobo if that happened.

Tifa smiled at the thought, an image of large yellow feathers protruding from between his thin lips fleeting across her mind. Laughing at her childish imagination, she carefully removed the soiled uniform and dumped it with disgust upon the tile floor. Skirting around it, she daintily slipped through the gap between the two glass doors into the awaiting water. Sighing in content, Tifa closed her eyes as small rivers ran down her tanned skin.

* * *

Vincent glanced at the clock atop his large oak dresser with a frown, glaring as it seemed to mock him. Tifa had been in the shower for over an hour. He knew women took extremely long showers, but this was ridiculous.

Grumbling under his breath, he straightened away from his large king bed which consumed the center of the room. Why did he put it _there_? He still had yet to find an answer, though maybe it was from his confinement. Vincent certainly didn't find pleasure in the idea of walls close beside him. He could tolerate it, though it was something he would rather steer clear of. Was it idiotic, to dislike something so simple? Vincent could kill men without a flinch and yet, he preferred his bed in the center of the room. Maybe people were right, he was strange.

Striding over to this left, he met the large dresser with the clock atop it. Glancing at it once more, his hand slowly reached up to unclasp each buckle which held the crimson fabric to his form. As it fell away from his shoulders and into his awaiting arm, he continued by removing all the buckles along his torso which were designed for Chaos' ribs if the demon was to be released. Hojo had not only designed his body, but the uniform he was forced to wear as well, case any of his demons were required. Even the cloak was a demand, unless Chaos would rather go without wings.

Stripping his torso free of any clothing, he turned around to glower at his reflection inside a full length mirror next to the bathroom door. The glare that could stop a man, yet his body was pitifully riddled with scars. No man would be afraid of _that_ sight. Sighing out his frustration, he returned to the dresser and opened the first drawer which groaned with unuse. He needed to find something that would serve as sleep wear, for Tifa would be slightly concerned with him if she learned he slept in his unusual uniform.

His reflection was different and it looked down to its toes to examine the new clothing. The sweat pants felt loose compared to his leather slacks and the t-shirt seemed to be two sizes too big, but it would have to do. Looking back upon his reflection, his eyes fell upon the burgundy bandana wrapped around his forehead. His claw, the only thing which planned to remain on, gingerly rose to unwrap the silky fabric until it dropped to the floor in a heap.

His bangs fell down to hang gently in his eyes and Vincent shook his head violently for a moment to adjust them. His crimson orbs, obscured behind black strands, disappeared for a time before reappearing. So, this was his new look for the night… _not bad actually._

Reaching over to the bed, he snatched the black t-shirt and shorts folded neatly above the scarlet bedspread. The water had finally ceased and Tifa would need some clothes for the upcoming hours. They would have to shop for her later, but for now, an unused shirt and shorts of his should work… actually- they were unused boxers…

* * *

**A/N: Yes- I am back for another author's note. And just the same old, same old- did you like this chapter? I won't know until you press that small button down there! I could really use the feedback. Thanks to all!**


	5. Tifa's Kiss

* * *

Tifa stared into the dark green abyss, the soothing smell swirling about her senses and urging her eyes to close for the night. Tucking her legs underneath her on Vincent's black leather couch, her nails started a rhythm on the cream colored ceramic. The herbal tea within vibrated ever so slightly at the gentle pounding against the container, calming her even more into a daze. 

Beside her, a lamp emitted a soft yellow glow which barely reached out to the shadowed corners of the small reading room she had discovered. Vincent, though she had yet to discover why, had built a small library within the basement of the beautiful manor. Tifa had never seen Vincent even touch a book, but here in this room, hundreds covered the shelved walls. Upon her discovery, she decided there she would sit for a while, mulling over her thoughts until sleep claimed her.

Lowering her gaze to her mug, she sighed heavily against the fumes. Even in her lax state, a small smile crept across her lips as she stole a fleeting glance to her new pajamas.

They had been left outside her door after her shower, the man who had given them to her nowhere in sight. Though, being in Vincent's boxers kept her mind slightly alert case he walked in. It was awkward enough that she was even in Vincent Valentine's presence for the man was an intimidating being, but lying around in his underwear was something she hadn't expected.

"I see you found one of my treasures."

Tifa barely flinched at the deep voice from the doorway behind her, her beating fingers slowing down until they curled around the mug. "I've never seen you with a book," she muttered, her eyes flickering closed while letting the hot liquid run down her throat. The little sip forced her mind to go blank as her shoulders sagged.

In an instant, he was standing in front of her and all the tiredness which had been plaguing her movements dispersed as her eyes slowly traveled up his form till their eyes met. His cloak was gone and the leather which consumed his body had also been removed, exposing a little more skin than he normally would. His muscled arms tensed and she quickly pried her eyes away in case he felt the need to bolt.

"You have a face," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "Never thought one existed underneath all that red material."

It was a meager attempt to keep her attention drawn away from the rest of him, though her true desire was to stare until she had her fill. Vincent grunted at her pathetic attempt to ignore what he had bare for the night, a spark in his eye revealing that he knew where her thoughts laid. "If you continue to stare at it, it might just fall off."

Clearing her throat, she slowly returned her attention to the cold mug within her grasp. "Are you going to sit down or not?" she snorted, her true request hovering between them. Tifa could only hope that the former Turk would understand.

The red-eyed gunman raised an eyebrow until Tifa wondered if it would just soar off his forehead. He grunted while his gauntleted fingers rose to scratch at the pale skin on his other arm, the pointed tips running almost gently across his scarred skin. Relieving the itch, he skirted around her crossed legs and dropped his body next to hers. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned the crown of his head against the back of the couch, exposing his smooth neck.

With his eyes closed, Tifa smirked at the opportunity she had. Slowly, her focus traveled over his scarred arms up his shoulder, across his neck to his face. Unexpectedly, her body automatically spun away from him as her stomach quickly rid itself of everything she had eaten today. Coughing in disgust, she clutched her stomach as she doubled over. A hand squeezed her shoulder as she blinked at the mess.

"Easy, it is merely a side affect."

Wiping her mouth across the back of her hand, her head turned to look at the crimson peaking through pale lids. Her heart seemed to halt at his words, and time ceased to exist. "Side affect of what?"

His head rose and once again his bangs fell into his vision, but he refused to push them away. "Tifa, you must understand…"

Jumping to her feet, she walked around the couch (mindful of the mess she had created) to back for the door. "What are you talking about?"

Vincent stood and faced her, his eyes narrowing. "I did this for your own safety."

Tifa's eyes flickered down to the mug within her grasp. "You, you drugged it didn't you?!" She demanded, dropping the mug and ignored the shatter as it met the floor. Her chest rose and fell frantically as her body demanded more air while the thought sunk in.

"You needed to rest."

"So you drugged me?!" she cried. "What kind of friend are you?" Spinning on her heel, she ran for the door, the knob seeming to mock her as stumbled across the slippery floors.

Vincent managed to be more balanced as he tumbled over the couch and leaped into her path. She collided into him with a grunt, determined to get as far away from her so called friend as possible.

"Tifa," he snarled in response, gripping her arms and shaking her to cease all the wiggling. Tifa gasped and froze; her body movement irregular as the poison sank in. Her vision began to blur and she whimpered. "I did this for your own good."

"Vincent, how could you?! How can I trust you now? I trusted you with my life! You saved my life, and yet you do this," she shouted.

"It's an old Turk trick," he said simply. "It helps calm the nerves after seeing something that a normal person shouldn't see. And your exhaustion was noted even at the bar. You haven't slept well since Cloud left you with the kids."

Tifa closed her mouth and stared at him, how had he known about that? Vincent's eyes searched hers while he slowly let go of her, retreating a few steps to give her space. "Was I that obvious?" she whispered, sinking to her knees.

"To the trained eye, yes," he nodded, kneeling down before her.

"But you could have at least told me what you were going to do," she insisted, glaring at him, though her anger had already passed on. Closing her eyes, her body requested that she wouldn't open her eyes again- the drug finally taking hold.

"Then you would have been aware, and it wouldn't have been as effective." He gripped her shoulders and Tifa didn't fight him away. Even after this, her trust with him remained strong.

"Vincent?"

The gunslinger grunted in response. Tifa opened her eyes and found herself staring at a very compromising position. Her mind began to swirl as if she had consumed too much of her own alcohol. Grinning crookedly her body swayed.

Looking up into her face, her smile faltered. "I think I need a drink."

"Another side affect," he explained.

Tifa raised her eyebrows, "really?" Vincent nodded and when his head rose once again, Tifa leaned forward and planted a kiss against his lips. She smiled while she pleaded for him to spread his lips for her tongue to enter.

Moving away after little success, her mouth followed his jaw down to the base of his neck, giving a loving kiss to his pulse. "Tifa," Vincent yanked his body away, his eyes wide at her response to the drug.

"Mm, have I ever told you that you are the hottest guy around?" Another innocent smile and her eyes closed. Her body sagged forward and into Vincent's chest as he caught her.

* * *

Vincent trembled as she slept against him. His skin still tingled from her touch and a gold clad finger reached up to run along his lower lip. "The drug," he mumbled and carefully lifted her body up into his arms. She needed to go to bed, though he knew that after all this, his mind wouldn't be ready to fall asleep.

* * *

**A/N: hehe, now the both of them are in his house and Tifa pulled a stunt... I wonder what's going to happen between them now. And will Tifa remember what she has done?**

**Please leave a review on your way out!**


	6. A New Color

**Hello once again and I am sorry for the lack of updating. This chapter just kept on refusing to come out the way I wanted it to. If you're keeping track of Show and Tell, hopefully it will recieve an update as well. This chapter isn't ask action packed as some of the others, but holds some important information. I hope you all enjoy and please leave a review!

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**

Tifa's brow furrowed as the short clip of gold boots across wood met her ears, though she refused to turn her head and watch his determined march for the stairs. Glowering at the book in her hands, she raised up a hand with her fingers stretched outward and her thumb folded.

"Four," she bellowed, noticing the falter in those small clips. Four times Vincent Valentine had left the protection of his bedroom; four times he had stepped into the kitchen (probably for water) without once acknowledging her presence during his trek through rooms. He had slipped back into solitude as though their friendship never existed.

Yet again no reply to her cruel remark except for the thumping of his weight lunging up each step and Tifa smirked dryly at his behavior. Out of complete boredom, her taunting side decided to emerge and tease the poor gunslinger that, by default, lost.

The click of his door meeting the frame once again echoed down to her and she tilted her head back. "I'll have you know, I'm still in your underwear!" She hollered, hoping for some sort of reaction. Returning to her book, she released the frustrated sigh that had been building up since breakfast. "And I'm hungry," she stated more to herself.

Placing the book gently beside her on the sofa, she dutifully stood for the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled for the over due lunch it was about to receive and Tifa grumbled along with it. Vincent Valentine was the only man she had ever met with a pole stuck up his ass so high… it was out of reach. What had made him retreat? Recalling last night, she could barely think of anything that would send him scurrying back into his little hole. Hell, last thing she could remember was falling asleep with Vincent sitting next to her looking mighty attractive in a short sleeved shirt for once.

Thrusting open the fridge door, she glared at the contents. At the moment, the only thing she was furiously interested in was punching a familiar pale cheek until it obtained some nice coloring. "I don't even know what's going on with these stalkers and the man who is keeping me under lock and key is staking out in his bedroom!" She fussed, tossing the makings of a sandwich onto the black marble island behind her.

The cabinets along the walls were too many to count and yet seemed to be the perfect number in such a professional kitchen. Though- where Vincent kept his bread was a mystery. Staring at the first silver handle, she pulled the door away and blinked at the vast array of pistols pegged along the cherry wood.

"Well, at least I know now where you keep your stash!" She remarked loudly, hoping he caught her drift. Closing that one, she carefully moved onto the next. "Betcha ten gil it's going to be rifle parts," she mumbled, looking skyward with hopes that it wouldn't be.

"You owe me ten gil!" She shouted upward, tilting her head case he answered though she very well knew that he wouldn't. Glancing at the pieces she smirked and politely closed the cabinet door. Returning to the pistol section, she snatched the one she believed to be the niftiest of all (though Cerberus, in her opinion, was impressive) and raised it skyward.

"Let's see if he keeps these loaded," she chuckled, looking up at the unsuspecting plaster above her. Pulling the trigger, an explosion rocketed off the walls and the small weapon flew out of her hands and clattered to the floor. Shouting out in surprise, she stared at the small hole in the ceiling of Vincent's kitchen.

The sudden noise of a chocobo galloping down the stairs forced Tifa to blink. With a wave of crimson, Vincent appeared in the doorway with wide blood-red eyes. His chest rose and fell in attempts to send needed nutrients to stiff muscles and Tifa turned to smile at him.

"So that's what it takes to get you downstairs, got to put that fact into my memory bank," she laughed, her head once again tilting for the small hole above her head. "Next time, don't put bullets in," she added, "so this won't happen."

His gaze was smoldering as it fleeted over her features to the hole and back again. Tifa nearly laughed as she witnessed the gears spinning inside his cranium while he thought his options over. Tifa could almost hear it herself-

Number 1- Just shoot her and end your misery

Number 2- Ignore it completely

Number 3- Send her to Cid

Number 4- Go Chaos

Number 5- Kill Cid for putting you in this position

It was as though he was speaking these very options inside her head in that deep monotone of his. She stifled a snort, and it came out as though she was choking on a tennis ball. His piercing stare locked with hers and she smiled weakly at him while she recovered from her mishap.

His approach quickly caught her off guard and her body stiffened in preparation for fight or flight. With his long strides, it was a merely seconds until he was beside her. Bending down with the cloak pooling up around him, he plucked the pistol of the ground with either disgust or annoyance. With Vincent though, Tifa guessed that it was a little of both.

"I'm going out for a while, I need to get some clothes and other things," she said softly, glancing at the front door that could only be unlocked with a key. Her fingers absentmindedly tugged at the edge of his boxers as the itch to get out of them intensified at the thought of actual clothes.

* * *

Eye level with her twitching fingers against the seam on her thigh, Vincent silently grimaced at the reality that certain things still affected him even after thirty years of sleep. Focusing on the pistol in hand, he studied it as he stood from his crouch, his ascent slow and testing her reactions.

He could nearly see her threat to bolt and flee from him. Vincent understood that he had frightened her with his distressed marching between his bedroom and the kitchen. He was in unease, a nerve disturbing emotion that he was unfamiliar with to the point where he could almost fidget before her.

The feeling would pass with time, but for the best, he would keep his distance from now on. Though she had been drugged and her mind was muddled as it forgot everything after the minute she spilled her lunch onto the rug, she still had attempted to take their friendship to a whole different level. A level Vincent was unlikely to ever step upon.

Tifa had sensed his discomfort somehow, though he wasn't quite sure how. Standing before her, he remained passive and aloof as he studied her lowering gaze. At least he still had the touch to force people to back down and feel self-aware at their actions and thoughts with just a glare.

"Vincent, you have to let me out," she continued weakly, her confidence disintegrating before him. In a matter of seconds she transformed from a strong woman to one who was frightened of her surroundings. That had been Cloud's doing, he was sure of it. He had seen it with Lucrecia; so many times had she feared her surroundings because of something Hojo had said or did.

So was he going to help her return to her confident, strong self? Possibly… it depended on where it would lead them in the future. For the time being, she was right; she was in the desperate need of clothes and he couldn't let her go alone nor could he leave her here while he went.

"The days are varying in temperature," he observed, stealing a glance for the window where the clouds allowed the sun to hide all day.

Tifa's eyes rolled for the ceiling before returning to the gunman who once again returned her stare. "Thanks for the reminder," she said grimly, hugging her arms resentfully.

"If you insist on leaving the protection of the house, I suggest a disguise," Vincent continued. "Possibly blonde?"

Tifa twitched before him and Vincent raised his chin so his smirk was visible. "Vincent Valentine, what for the gods' sake, what are you talking about?"

"A disguise that will allow you to slip in and out of areas unnoticed."

"Are you suggesting I should dye my hair?" She asked, a hand instinctively reaching for the black locks around her neck.

"Yes, if you wish to go outside," Vincent concluded.

"I take it you won't let me go out otherwise," she huffed, her lips twitching into a frown.

"Correct."

"Fine, blonde," she sighed. "I'm guessing you have hair dye roaming somewhere?"

Vincent nodded curtly before leaving her to stare after him. She would hate him for it, but he knew that for his sake, she needed to be out of his underwear.

* * *

Tifa blinked at herself in the mirror, her hands raking through the knotted mess atop her head. "I'm blonde," she informed herself, staring disappointedly at the bright golden color. If this was a disguise, it was working perfectly. Her stalkers would have to make a second glance to verify it was even her and when they did, she would be long gone amongst the crowds.

Through the mirror, she caught a glimpse of Vincent staring at her intently with a long black coat draped over one arm.

"Out of the regular uniform? That's a surprise," she grumbled, noticing how stunning he looked within the white turtle neck he wore.

Vincent raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his new attire, tugging at the hem of his tight shirt before shrugging the question away. Tifa snorted as she started from his leather shoes, past his slacks up to where the turtle neck curved around his jaw.

"You should get rid of the claw," Tifa suggested, wincing as his simple stare turned into something more. Tossing the jacket meant for her on the edge of her bed, he exited out of the room before she could even apologize.

Leaving the bathroom, she slipped the jacket on and sighed at the size. "Vincent, you're a giant," she concluded, rolling up the sleeves for her arms. At least no one would know she was roaming around in her make shift pajamas.

"Time to go shopping," she announced to the room before heading downstairs. She found Vincent waiting patiently at the door, the keys in hand and his gold claw still attached to his other arm.

"So, is there anything on the agenda for today besides following me around to stores?" She questioned, hoping he would at least answer her.

"We will discover what your stalkers are up to."

Tifa blinked, "Oh really? And how do you know that?"

Vincent heaved a low sigh and glanced out the same window he had looked through earlier. "I know where they hide…"

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**Please leave a review- I love them to bits!**


	7. Tina and Val

**A/N: Another update- and this chapter I enjoy very much. I hope all of you do too. I promise another update very soon and please drop a review before you leave!

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Eyes darkened and the scowl increased as Denzel glared at the injured man across the breakfast table. Marlene hummed innocently beside the older boy while she chomped on a buttered piece of toast, her crunching the only sound within the gloomy room. Denzel shot a glance for her as she increased her humming strength before quickly returning his attention to Mr. Shinra in case the man might just lunge at him from the wheelchair.

"Are you enjoying your lunch?" Rufus inquired softly, looking up with his good eye and smiling as gently as he could. Folding his hands along the edge of the table, he raised an eyebrow in wait.

"I guess," Denzel seethed in return and he slouched further into his seat. Behind him, Reno sauntered in with a plate of who knows what in his gloved hands. A white apron was fitted around his thin waist and flowed around his knees similar to a skirt. Rufus nearly choked on water as he attempted to swallow.

"What do you mean 'you guess'? Isn't this the best lunch you ever had? If I do say so myself, I am a pretty good cook," Reno snorted, placing the plate in the center of the table. Resting his hands on his hips he regarded the lot with his brow furrowed. "Who pinched who in the butt here? We were so happy last night playing cards."

Rufus politely settled his glass though the sound of the base striking hard wood startled all of them. "Reno, you are not our mother. Go back to work… who's guarding the back door?"

Reno chuckled cynically, "I told Tseng he would either have to wash his hands to help me set the table or guard the door. Now who wants more toast?"

"Yes please!" Marlene squealed in sing song, her legs swinging back and forth underneath the seat. Reno winked at her before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I hate you," Denzel growled as the kitchen door swung shut behind the redhead. Rufus sighed and once more wrapped a cloth over his head to obscure his bandaged face from the world. Slender fingers reached down and manipulated the chair that would forever be underneath him, a result of his past sins. As it hummed to life, he maneuvered it around the table to stop briefly beside the boy.

"I suppose you would."

* * *

"Vincent, you own a car," Tifa whispered, wide burgundy eyes taking in the black vehicle parked before her.

The gunman turned and raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I would have thought you noticed it earlier upon stepping up to my home." His head tilted to the side in question with long bangs playing in front of his eyes.

"Do you honestly think I would notice a car when you have a house?!" She pointed behind her to the side of the building as if it was proof to her argument. A deep rumble shook his chest for a brief moment before he opened the passenger door for her.

"I'm full of surprises." Dry and to the point: good ol' Vincent Valentine.

"Yeah I bet you are," she replied readily, preparing herself for the playful banter she often entered with the aloof man. Though, it had been too long since the last one had occurred… almost two months ago. It was only late at night while sipping herbal tea she would miss those moments spent with Vincent. She held them dear, especially when she barely saw anyone of Avalanche anymore… besides Vincent surprisingly.

Of all of the members within Avalanche, she would have never expected to find Vincent, of all people, standing on her doorstep on a bleak afternoon. She had just recently lost Cloud to another one of his disappearances and as usual, her emotions were phasing through different areas of grief. Maybe someone on the team was worried for her and sent Vincent to investigate or he had just come on his own, she would probably never know. When she had refused to open the bar as night approached, Vincent had made a point to keep her mind busy from the thought of actually opening up the shop for others. "You can only do so much for people until you have to do something for yourself," he had told her. She took those words and held them to her heart.

That was the day everything changed. Vincent Valentine visited her nearly every month unless something unexpected occurred. She would look forward to his visits, counting down the days until it was a rhythm every morning when she opened her eyes. Vincent's visits were what kept her going throughout the months she was alone, even when there was other company with her such as Barret appearing from weeks of work to see Marlene. Maybe that's why she clung to Vincent's presence so desperately- because he had chosen to come and see her unlike Barret who had only come to see his daughter.

Two lonely hearts trying to find company within the empty world.

"Tifa?" His voice cut into her thoughts and she quickly shook her head to bring herself back into reality. Cautious eyes studied hers and with a swift movement of an arm to distract him, her smile once again returned.

"Sorry, my thoughts decided to take over," she answered sweetly, moving forward to settle into the car. Vincent grunted and slammed the door shut, leaving Tifa alone to ponder a little more. But instead, she watched him delicately move around the front of the car with the breeze playing through his black mane which was even more mangled without the control of his bandana.

"So…" she began once he closed the door shut from the cold. "Where to first?"

"You never did finish making yourself a meal," he said gently, hesitating as he turned the key and the engine roared to life, "so I thought it would be appropriate if we had a belated lunch."

Tifa chuckled and watched the scenery as it began to move from peaceful fields to the beginning of civilization with frustrated drivers and busy roads. "Welcome to Edge," she sighed sarcastically as Vincent swerved to avoid a collision.

As Vincent's breathing slowed while his adrenaline died, she glanced at him. "Where would you like to make a stop?" He inquired, his eyes focused on the road and allowing her to study him without his piercing gaze.

Past him, a glimpse of a brown building caught her vision and instinctively, she reached out to grasp Vincent's forearm. "Pull over!" She insisted, squeezing his arm gently as the building slowly disappeared behind them.

"…Tifa?"

"Just pull over!" A tear trickled down her cheek while Vincent tore his gaze from the road to glance at her. Sobbing, she swallowed down her desperation. "…please Vincent…"

A growl came from him and he carefully moved the vehicle to park along the road. Tifa fidgeted as the car began to slow before she dared to unlock the door and bolt away… Vincent couldn't even put on the brakes. His calls rang after her as she pushed past the crowds of people back to the building that she had spotted, her heart throbbing against her ribcage.

The building finally returned to her vision and she heaved a sigh of relief, her feet shuffling to a stop at the corner of the building. Placing a hand on the cold brick, she patted it warmly before continuing onward, but this time at a walk to allow her burning legs a break.

Familiarity; how she loved familiarity. The smells, the sights… all of it brought her a sense of peace she hadn't felt for hours. It was as though she had been asleep for years… how she had yearned for it to end so she could come back to where she was now _… was that how Vincent felt upon awakening? But Vincent never got the chance to go back to familiarity… all of it was lost in the years of his slumber. Was that the reason that created his cold heart?_

Quickening her strides, she took another corner until she was face to face with the charred remains of Seventh Heaven. Like a saddened flag, yellow tape flapped in the cold spring winds around the rubble while men in blue uniforms trudged through the splintered wood and metal. So went her feeling of familiarity… like a fluttering bird it took flight without her; leaving her heart broken and empty.

"I have no place to call home," she whispered, tears trickling down her face. Sniffling, she used Vincent's coat sleeve to wipe them away, leaving her puffy eyed and red cheeked.

"Why cry?"

She spun, her eyes softening at the man standing behind her. Sheepishly, he shuffled the curly brown locks on his head with a skinny hand and smiled at her. "Just don't like seeing people cry," he explained, coming to stand next to her to observe the men kicking and prodding at burnt objects.

"Did you know the owners?" she asked, stealing a glance at him while he continued to watch.

"I used to come here for dinner sometimes. Tifa Lockhart owned the place, used to be Seventh Heaven… Tifa was so nice, but…" He shrugged, the smile once again taking control of his face. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't cry, you should smile and be happy."

"I was happy," she said softly. "…until everything was taken away from me." Closing her eyes, she willed her tears back down and gave a sad smile instead.

"What's your name?" He asked gently, leaning a bit closer to hear her.

"Ti-," a swell of fear pooled in her chest as her brain sounded the alarm. She was blonde, she was in disguise, and was about to give a stranger her real name.

"Well, 'Ti' it's great to meet you," the man laughed, revealing pearl-white teeth.

"Sorry," she grinned, "had to get my voice back. My name's Tina, and yours?"

"Richard- but everybody calls me Rick… don't get me started on how many other names people come up with for that."

He was attempting to cheer her up, Tifa could see it in the way he studied her as she listened to him. She had to give him credit, it was working. Giggling at his remark, she nodded at him. "Nice to meet you Rick."

"Nice to meet you too Tina, so, why is someone so pretty such as you roaming about without a man by your side?"

"First off, I'm not that pretty," she informed him before shrugging. "As to men-,"

"My love, I never expected to find you here."

Rick was the first to turn around, a territorial look within his eyes. Following his movement, she frowned at the straight form of Vincent Valentine. Crimson eyes studied the man next to her and as he gave her a sidelong glance, she knew she would be trudging through hell with him later on in the car.

"Sorry, names Rick and you are?" Rick held out his gloved hand, the brown leather flexing just like the fingers underneath.

"I'm just full of surprises, Val," she growled at Vincent who blinked at her as the name sunk in.

"Hey, are you Vincent Valentine?" Rick asked suspiciously as he drew his hand back into his coat pockets.

"…I receive that comment a lot. Since when have you heard of Vincent Valentine?" In an instant, the gunslinger was for once acting like a regular human being mingling with friends. He had adjusted his weight to one foot and bent the other leg at the knee in a relaxed and almost bored manner. Tifa had to make sure her jaw wouldn't fall to the floor in shock.

"Just heard the rumors… and you look so close to the descriptions." Tifa suddenly felt the urge to flee as the dangerous edge in Rick's voice deepened. Instinctively, she took the two steps between her and Vincent and stood at the gunslinger's side, trembling as he placed his left hand around her waist.

…_his left hand…?_ Tifa stood still while Vincent's side brushed up against hers as he drew her closer. In an instant, Tifa's thoughts drowned the two men out as the conversed in attempts to figure out the change; it was indeed his left hand and as Tifa experimented by shifting within his grasp, she masked her surprise. The gold gauntlet was gone, leaving the black glove underneath exposed. The heat escaping from the glove was an unexpected change from the cold metal claw, a change she instantly liked. _Maybe he does have a hand underneath the glove… then why wear the gauntlet?_

"So has anyone asked for your autograph yet?" Rick laughed and Tifa snapped from her revere to look up at Vincent in expectation.

"A few yes, but when I explain that I am not Vincent Valentine and merely someone who looks like him, they walk away," Vincent shrugged nonchalantly. "It is difficult to explain the eyes when they don't believe me."

Rick raised an eyebrow playfully, crossing his arms over his chest to block out the chilly air. Vincent gave an exaggerated sigh and began, "My mother used to work at the Shinra Company long ago as a scientist and when she was pregnant, there was a deadly chemical spill. My eyes were the result of her inhaling the fumes."

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. But you are alright, aren't you?"

"Val, sweetheart," Tifa whined, obtaining both Vincent and Rick's attention. "I think it's time to meet our friends at the café." She shuddered at the strength within Vincent's hand as it tightened around her.

"I suppose you are right," he answered with a tinge of regret.

Tifa turned to Rick sweetly, "We're meeting two of our friends for dinner. It's an engagement celebration."

"Oh," Rick blinked and struggled to keep his surprise and disappointment at bay. "Congratulations."

An over exaggerated giggle came from her and she waved her hand in a pathetic way. "No, no, no. Not Val and me, no, Val hasn't made the move yet," Tifa glared at Vincent who rolled his eyes.

"Women," he growled meaningfully at Rick before walking away, the arm he had wrapped around her pushing her along with him.

"It was nice to meet both of you!" Rick called, the cheerfulness not fully masking the shock of the sudden departure.

"This is the reason why I had locked the doors," Vincent snarled once Rick was out of earshot. "So you wouldn't wander off and get yourself hurt." His hand became painful on her side as his fingers stiffened into makeshift claws. _At least the gold claw is off or I'd be bleeding a lake by now._

"Vincent, _you're_ hurting me," Tifa winced, wiggling within his grasp in attempts to flee from the pain. He quickly drew away from her and put his hand back at his side.

"…Tifa, I cannot protect you when you disappear on me."

"I'm sorry Vincent, I just… I had to see for myself what was left of Seventh Heaven…" Inhaling a shaking breath, she rubbed her eyes once more on the coat sleeve before the waterworks began again. Sobbing quietly with her face muffled in the fabric, she struggled to obtain some control over her whimpering self.

"Tifa," Vincent crooned, pulling her to the side of the pathway where there was less traffic. Peeking up at him, she rubbed the current tears off her face but they continued to fall mercilessly. Vincent studied her for a moment before urging her into an embrace, allowing her to sob into his chest.

"I know you are hurting," he said softly, lowering his head down to the nearest ear, "but you must move on."

"It- it's not that Vincent," she whispered, raising her head to stare at him. "I just- I have nothing… and you're the only one who is helping me, yet I know you don't want to be. I'm all alone in this, and I don't know what to do."

"Tifa, I do want to help you, and though sometimes I might not look like I understand, I do. And I want you to know-,"

"Tifa? Tifa Lockhart?"

At her name, she pulled away from Vincent and stared fearfully at Richard, who was pointing accusingly at her with narrowed eyes. "I should have known! You changed your hair, but you _are_ Tifa Lockhart!"

Vincent's body shifted and he quickly positioned himself in front of her. Richard glared at Vincent and then pointed at him, "You _are_ Vincent Valentine. That whole story you fed me was a load of bullshit! Eric didn't kill you like we thought he did."

The fear was there, along with the terror. She was in this position… because of Vincent? The men trying to kill her… were actually trying to hurt him? Vincent's hand snaked around his back and found hers without turning around.

"Tifa," his voice was eerily calm and her breath came up short. "I need you to run."

Run when frozen on the spot, completely confused. Tifa stiffened and glanced at the back of the gunman's head, wondering if he lost his mind. She could fight; she was a martial artist… and was trained with the best of them, why run when she could help him fight off a man who barely looked like a threat?

"He's not after you, I want you to run," Vincent continued, slowly backing up and pushing her along as Rick advanced. "Go to the car, you know where it is. I'll handle him."

Regaining her composure, she moved from behind him to stand ready at his side. "Shove it Valentine, I can fight," she growled, preparing herself for battle. Tucking her blonde hair from her face, she clenched her hands until they ached. A feeling she often missed from the old days.

"What a pity," Richard sighed, and dug into his coat pocket. "Well Vincent Valentine, how about we see some tears?"

It was the only warning, the only hint of what was about to come. In a flash a piece of metal was withdrawn from his pocket and a blast was fired. Screams from the crowds seemed to come from every direction and Tifa caught a glimpse of Richard disappearing within the mass of people circling them… before her knees buckled. Her mind could barely comprehend the waves of pain as her wide eyes lowered to the side of her ribcage where blood flowed freely.

"He shot me?" she choked, blood dribbling from her lips as she fell backwards with a thud. Vincent rushed forward but didn't catch her in time, only managing to lean over her with frantic cries of her name. She frowned at his face, a water drop flickering down one pale cheek. Was it raining? No… she wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but could feel herself disappearing. _Vincent… don't cry…_

_

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_

**A/N: I'll leave it at that then for a while... I would love to hear your comments so please click that little pretty blue button down there that says "go"!**

**Until next time,**

**J**


	8. Hungry

**A/N: Short- but it I think it will satisfy everyone's hunger until I can actually sit down for a long period of time and write. I hope everyone enjoys and click that blue button when you're done!**

**Yours Truly**

**J

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The clock was his enemy; an enemy he wished to destroy thoroughly. The seconds soon became a rhythm inside his skull, the annoying ticking that reverberated across his whole form. Thick lashes flickered down to obscure deep crimson and his elbows rested over his knees as he struggled to maintain his sanity.

"Is there a Mr. McGorman here?"

"I need a physician in room thirty two!"

"Where is the IV I asked for?"

"A boy shattered a rib…"

"We're going to have to take her to surgery…"

Too many voices and the smell of sorrow shrouded his senses like a thick cloud. Breathing heavily, he jerked his head back, a grimace contorting his features as his ears heard a young child scream from within a room.

_A scream pealed through his throat, vocal cords straining to reach such a high intensity. A shadowed figure leaned over his limp form, the light reflecting off a pair of spectacles and nearly blinding his overly sensitive eyes._

_"We're going to have to take him to surgery, or we'll never get this the way we want to," a voice crackled and Vincent convulsed against his bindings, the metal slab digging painfully against his shoulder blades._

_A hand reached out and grasped his left forearm, raising it closer to those glowing spectacles. Vincent roared from where he laid, his throat constricting till air could barely seep through. A flash of light struck his left arm… and blood oozed from the cut in response._

_"A reminder for what you have done…" the voice came again… and the knife dug deeper into his left wrist._

Vincent jerked further into his seat, his eyes snapping open to glance down at his left hand… once again enveloped in gold. Flexing it, his fingers quivered at the memories- though; he wouldn't call them fingers anymore… Soft footsteps forced his muscles to stiffen and his human hand instinctively reached down for his hip where Cerberus usually laid.

"Shit, this place gives me the creeps- what was the damn room number that witch gave us?"

"Hush or someone will hear you."

"Let 'em. I'm not in the mood for polite talk anyway."

"Since when have you ever been in the mood for polite talk?" Shera finished dryly as both she and Cid stepped through the door's threshold.

Vincent greeted them with a scowl which was easily met by Cid. Behind him, Shera winced at the bland room where Tifa would be after she was brought back. Black cords and wires slithered their way across the floor to attach at different pieces of equipment situated around the top of the bed while a small chair sat in the corner where Vincent had plopped his carcass. A nightmare in the making.

"I wonder if I can liven this place up… might make Tifa feel better." Shera wondered carefully- her eyes softening as she stared at the empty table off to the far corner. Perfect for some colorful flowers and bright balloons.

Cid took another step for Vincent, his boot scuffing against the floor while his fingers twitched- probably missing his cigarettes. "We've been lookin' for you guys. Yuffie didn't even know where you all wandered. She came over all messed up and told us about the fire- we came back only to find nothin'… absolutely nothin'. Now you call us and tell us Teef is in trouble."

Vincent frowned at Shera- who was glaring fearfully at the back of Cid's head. At first, Vincent wondered if she was going to lunge at Cid and knock him out or just hold him down. _So there is going to be trouble. Of course…_

Cid's face flushed a bright cherry red and his eyes flashed. "Damn it Vince! What the _fuck_ did you do?! No, wait- what the _fuck_ didn't you do?! You were supposed to protect her and look where she landed!"

Crimson eyes flickered to the floor, the detail within the tiles absorbing his attentions. "She's in surgery, I haven't learned anything else," Vincent said softly, struggling to keep his voice exactly as he usually had it- completely monotone.

"Oh so she's in surgery," Cid nodded mockingly.

Vincent acknowledged Cid's march towards him with a brief glance, but when a strong fist met the side of his lips Vincent wasn't prepared. His head jerked to the side, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as his teeth dug into the tender flesh of his lower lip.

"Cid Highwind, don't do this!" Shera cried and she wrapped her arms around her husband, as if her weight would hold Cid back.

Vincent stood, glaring Cid down and mentally keeping peace within his conscious. Wiping the blood onto the black of his sleeve, he carefully stepped around them for the doorway where he stood in wait- ignoring the two people behind him. "If I would have known what would occur- I would have done everything in my power to protect her," he whispered to himself, closing his trembling eyelids as another tear ran down to tickle his cheek.

"Vincent?"

"Shera… I must go. Call me if she comes from surgery safely," the gunman growled, wincing as he shuddered.

"…are you okay?"

His claw clenched and he spun, nearly striking the concerned woman behind him. Looking past her to the open window, he charged forward; nearly knocking Cid to the ground as he made his escape. Breaking through the screen, he began his plummet for the ground with the wind whipping around him before Chaos' desires took control.

The pain was greater than all the other transformations and Vincent roared as his bones moaned underneath his flesh. Skin bubbled as it quickly grew, creating wings from scratch while flesh hardened into the thick armor plating to cover Chaos' corpse. His old uniform, which served as important pieces of each transformation, was gone- leaving Vincent's body to complete the transformation without any assistance.

Wings stretched, catching air as the demon soared for more altitude. The entity was hungry… and wanted to feed.

* * *

Rick walked carefully down the dirt road, his eyes studying the looming building before him. "Found it," he said grimly. "Nice house Valentine though I would say the lack of décor really brings down the value," Rick mocked, pulling out a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with a hand protecting the flame against the cold breeze.

Lunging up the steps he glanced around briefly before jiggling the door handle. He blinked as it swung open to his prying and studied the disaster within. Chairs were overturned, glass broken along the wooden floors, and furniture torn apart. Rick stepped through the shattered remains of a vase; the shards crunching underneath his boots as he took in the sight.

"Looks like someone beat me to it," he mused, snorting at the destroyed chair within the living room. "Unless he has one very big hamster." Laughing it his own joke, he walked into the kitchen, blinking at the cabinets open for the world to see.

Pistols, rifles, and other foreign weapons lay strewn over the counters; a complete mess just like the rest of the manor. "What the hell…" Stooping down, he picked up a rifle that would be more than his usual paycheck.

Rick jumped at the growl, so startled that the rifle slipped from his grasp to clatter onto the floor. Spinning on his heel, he studied the other part of the kitchen suspiciously. There was no movement, nothing that would create a noise. Shrugging, he returned to the cabinets and yelled at the creature before him.

A monster, a demon; crouched on the floor amongst the weapons and glowered at him with bright gold eyes. Wings were hugged tightly against a taunt back, muscles rippling on his arms and legs. The upper lip curled, exposing sharpened fangs and a sharp hiss sent a tremble down Rick's form.

"…hurt… her…" The voice was strained, inhuman, as the demon's lips moved.

"What the hell?!" Rick cried, scrambling back until he was against the island. The demon barely blinked before leaping into him, tackling him down to the ground. Crimson pooled along the floor- creeping its way for the living room as hungry snarls came from the hunched form. Raising its head, Chaos licked his bloodied lips before slipping on a grotesque smile- white teeth stained red…


	9. His Promise

**A/N: Couldn't stop writing so I decided to post another chapter early. Here it is- and I tried making it as scientific as possible (even went to two professionals on human anatomy!). Enjoy! Leave a review on your way out please, it's great to hear what you all have to say!

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_"Will she be alright…?"_

_"Where did he go…"_

_"You want…"_

_"Vincent should…"_

_"Damn it…"_

Pale eyelids flickered back, allowing mahogany to the light. The ceiling was a pale cream… a complete bore. Reaching up for her face, Tifa blinked at the tube attached to the top of her hand. Her thick throat rolled for a forced swallow as her chest heaved another breath. Her other hand slipped underneath her gown to feel thick gauze wrapped along her torso; a heavy weight on her ribs.

"Oh gods," she choked hoarsely, pulling her hands away from her sides and staring at the empty room frantically. She was alone… alone once more.

She jumped at the door opening and sighed as Yuffie sneaked into the room as any ninja could. Though when their eyes met with a clash of colors, Yuffie squealed softly before bounding up to the bed.

"You're awake!" the ninja exclaimed, a smile spreading her cheeks almost to the point of painful.

"Yuffie," Tifa whimpered, looking around at the colorful flowers and balloons decorating the room. "…where's Vincent?"

In an instant, the young ninja's face mellowed out to full seriousness. "Well, he sorta disappeared after you were taken to the hospital. Cid punched him and he just sprang out that window. Shera's really worried for him, saying that he wasn't acting like himself. But hey, why you asking for him when you have me?"

Tifa smiled weakly before wincing at the increasing pain along her abdomen. "What… happened?"

Yuffie shifted before shrugging. "They got the bullet out, which is good. But you need to rest."

The martial artist chewed on her lower lip, feeling the skin peel under the pressure of her teeth. "I can't."

* * *

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Turk," Cid said dryly.

"Ex-Turk," Vincent corrected, ending the silent staring contest and turning to Barret leaning against the wall.

"Damn it Valentine! Look at me when I'm gonna yell at ya!" Cid exclaimed, reaching forward in half attempts to grab Vincent's shoulder. The gunman spun only to step away from Cid's reach.

"Cid, we already discussed this," Shera warned, glaring at Cid from behind, "and we don't have to bring it up now."

"Let him speak Shera," Vincent sighed. Her eyes rolled for the back of her head before she left mumbling under her breath about getting more flowers. The nurses behind the overgrown counter also watched Shera storm off until their attention was drawn towards the distress… him. As suspected with a mild smirk, the glare he had sent the women's way finished the beginnings of gossip and all quickly went about their work quietly. _Still have the touch…_

The remaining team studied the gunman intently and Vincent stiffened at the smell of frustration radiating off their bodies. "I take it you're the speaker for the group Cid," Vincent noted, holding his ground as the glances from the others turned for the worse.

Cid's cheeks flushed a dark pink and his fingers curved. "Where the hell have ya been? Some friend you are- first, Tifa gets her guts blown out, then you get up right when she's gettin' put back together. We're a team Vince, you should start accepting it."

Chaos had been sated with a full stomach; unexpectedly human flesh. So the rage which slowly began to consume Vincent's mind was surprisingly his own. "If we _are_ a team Cid, the team would be _here_. They would _have_ been with Tifa these past few months instead of me. Now let me through."

Cid scowled, but reluctantly shuffled to the side of the hallway, nodding his submission towards the burning crimson eyes. Vincent stared at the forest green door, half expecting it to jump off its hinges and waddle away along with the rest of the hospital. He had woken from a nightmare, to end up living in one- ironic how life had resumed.

"She wants to see you," Yuffie piped up, smiling weakly as Vincent looked at her. "She won't rest. She doesn't even want to see any of us. Just keeps asking for you and won't take the painkillers they're trying to give her. You gotta do something Vinnie."

"…what's her condition?"

Barret shifted while scratching his ear with polished metal fingers. "From what I got from the doctors, the bullet went through 'er stomach and into 'er kidney. Poor Teef went into shock 'cause of blood loss. They had to remove all 'er guts to get 'er all cleaned up. They couldn' save the kidney though and they had to patch 'er stomach back up. Can't eat anything for a while, so she's bein' fed through tubes. She's gonna be in the hospital for at least a week, Vince. She's lucky the bullet didn't strike any arteries 'cause she wouldn't have made it."

Vincent frowned, swallowing down his concern with a sharp inhale. "Cid, how long have I been away?"

"Couple hours, why? Didn't you see the dark? That means it's night ya know."

"I suppose I was distracted," the gunman admitted, mentally cursing Chaos' refusal to return to his subconscious.

"Well, see ya got ya cape back on. It was nice seein' ya without it," Cid finished, frowning at Vincent's normal uniform.

"Maybe it was," Vincent shrugged as he carefully trekked over to the haunting green door. Nodding to the others, he quietly stepped into the room where the rhythmic beep of monitors sent shudders down his form. Closing the door, his eyes trailed locks of dark brown up to a soft tan where mahogany studied him back.

"Looks like you don't want to be here," Tifa managed softly, wincing as thick words assaulted her tender throat.

"Do you?" Vincent replied, tilting his head upward to expose the sad smirk.

A tear streaked down her cheek and darkened a spot on her pillow. "…I thought you left. They said… you left…"

"I had some business to take care of." He carefully pulled the chair to her bedside and settled in, his arms crossing comfortably.

"I know. Rick is no more, right?" She pointed to the ripped screen behind thick glass, sighing sadly as she turned away. The lights dimmed and Vincent stiffened until he noticed the small monitor within her grasp, her fingers playing with the buttons.

Studying the equipment situated around her, he blinked at a syringe left carelessly on the side table. "Are you in pain?"

"A little…"

"A lie- Tifa, you are a poor liar, especially when directed to me."

A grin spread on her lips, a weak form of the true vibrant smile she always wore, but a smile nonetheless. "…I know you hate human contact-," she began softly. Vincent's eyebrow raised as his claw reached forward and she quickly intertwined her fingers with his. "…thanks," she finished, looking up at him gratefully.

"Tifa, why do you wish to see me of all people?"

"Because you're the only one…" she gasped, her face contorting into a fierce wince. The grip on his gauntlet tightened until Vincent switched hands, case his armored fingers pierced her skin. With each hitched breath, her fingers tightened their hold on his gloved palm. "…who I can trust with everything I have…"

"If you are in pain, then you must take what the doctor gives," Vincent soothed, staring on helplessly as Tifa continued through the unexpected pain spasm.

"Funny- coming from you," She replied carefully. Her breathing slowed and her head rolled on the pillow to gaze at him. "Sorry about your hand," she whispered, slipping away from him apologetically.

"Don't be, use it when you need to Tifa, it will be here."

"You've always been there for me," she said softly. "For the past year, it never really registered how much I needed you until now. I always took you for granted, and yet you never said a word about it."

"Tifa, rest please," he begged, reaching down for her hand once more to give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Why Vincent, why did you come over that day?" she studied him, as if the answer was written plainly within the details of his face.

"…must you ask this now?"

"It's as good as any time," she chuckled sadly.

"Will you sleep if I answer?"

"If it will get you to answer… then yes."

Vincent inhaled slowly before leaning closer, "I couldn't stand back and witness what happened to me happen to you. The life I serve should not be shared. You continue to insist that I am not alone, and yet I am; fully happy that it remains so. If you became-," the gunslinger hesitated for a moment, looking down at her blankly. "If you became what I am- a heartless old vampire," Vincent chuckled darkly, ignoring the sad whimper she gave, "I knew my life would have served no purpose. It keeps me going, to think that I have kept others from following the path I chose. So, I appeared on your doorstep unwelcomed in hopes that I could shield you from grief and bring some light into your world, even though I am just a 'heartless old vampire'."

"Wow, long answer," she observed. "Though, you aren't a heartless old vampire Vincent."

"Tifa, you promised me you would sleep, not continue the conversation," Vincent chided, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, but now you've opened another can of worms and I can't rest now," she objected back, glaring at him with as much playfulness she could muster. The gunman groaned while his eyes rolled.

"Tifa, I told the others waiting outside I would help you, not start an argument with you." It was a poor excuse he knew, to get away from her in case she opened a group of "cans". He didn't need to express his hidden secrets and thoughts, and she didn't need to analyze them.

"We're not arguing. If we were arguing, you'd be already dead," she teased, her laughter cutting short with a grimace. Her free hand, the one not clasped onto Vincent's, rested upon her chest where the injury laid.

"Tifa," Vincent warned, his claw unbuckling his cloak in the process; letting the red material shed from his form and slid down to rest on the chair.

"I'm alright- trust me," Tifa insisted, shrugging his worry away. She expressed a long sigh, a pained expression etched into her features.

"I will not leave Tifa, but please sleep."

"As long as you'll be here when I wake up…"Though her eyelids fell instantly, the grip on his hand tightened. The gunman hesitated as he glanced at the array of wires and tubing before pressing a button which summoned a friendly woman. At first, she studied Tifa sleeping soundly until her eyes fell upon Vincent.

"I will give her something to help the pain," the nurse informed him, skirting around his chair to where the syringe had been abandoned. Taking the IV, the woman carefully injected the clear liquid into the water mix. As the woman walked out, closing the evil green door behind her Vincent reached out with his gauntlet to push away a strand of hair by the corner of her lips.

"I promise I will be here," he told her firmly before leaning back into the chair, his gauntleted feet stretching out before him. "I promise you everything that I couldn't give to Lucrecia- my loyalty, my life… and my love…"


	10. Kidnapped

The rain fell in fat drops against Vincent's form, soaking him to the bone and making his tattered cloak a thick weight on his shoulders. Very few dared to venture out in such a storm… and Vincent was one of the few.

Shifting on his haunches, he squinted through the eye piece and spotted a bobbing brown haired head making its way through the alleyways far below. Vincent's lips curved into a wary smile as he rolled his shoulders to adjust stiff muscles. Using his claw as a guide, he trailed the barrel of the weapon after the man while his human fingers skimmed the trigger.

The blast was loud to his ears after remaining silent for hours, but the satisfying sight of the man crumpling in a bloodied heap with his cranium broken wide for the world to see was a pleasure in itself. Standing with a grunt, he hefted the sniper over his shoulder and studied the rooftops once more.

It would be a while before they came looking for him- his job was done. With a quick twist of his heel, he was headed back for the stairway leading to dry safety. It would be good to thaw out for some time before leaving once again for the hospital. Tifa probably was still sleeping the medication off even after the long hours and with the team hating him for what he had done with Tifa- he wouldn't be missed.

He was about to break- there was no point in denying it. The frustration which had been building since he volunteered to guard Tifa was now to the point of overflowing. He winced; he had been reckless with her. She was as fragile as the roses he enjoyed and yet she was wilting under his care. He had failed her and now she had nearly been at the doors of death because of it. It didn't help when Cid demanded every tidbit of information that he was unwilling to give… until everyone could listen that is. The damned pilot would just have to learn patience.

He would have transformed if he could have- that he knew. Chaos had been satisfied by the hunt of Rick and had no interest to be awakened from its slumber after such a heavy meal. But the others- Galian Beast in particular- encouraged him to break free, allow them to feed until they all would be satisfied; he without anger, becoming quiet and passive once more, while they settled with a full stomach of human rage.

Instead, he decided to visit his destroyed house, redecorated to Chaos' liking, to pick up a few essentials he would need; the sniper now slung over his left shoulder for example. It was interesting how easily he fell back into the life he had once known- protecting someone with the weaponry he was used to.

Now, however, it was onto matters he would rather not enter. Ones that included the end of Cid's patience along with the issues and stories to be discussed- which now dealt with someone else's wellbeing: Tifa Lockhart. He refused to put Tifa in jeopardy though if he faced the daunting truth- he knew for certain that it was already too late. His emotions, love in particular, had caused this horrible pain and now once again, he had to deal with the aftermath. Why couldn't he have learned from past mistakes with Lucrecia? Why, why, why?!

_"Why?" He had demanded, rushing up to her as if he was death itself. Lucrecia barely flinched at his advances, staring at him coolly._

_"Because I wish it," she replied, sipping her tea from the delicate cup._

_"How can you do this? How?"_

"Her love was not mine," Vincent informed the rain, hesitating to look up at the dark and angry sky. "I was just too young to admit it."

Chaos shifted within and Vincent turned back to glance at his former target- a pair of moving objects catching his attention. Frowning, he carefully raised the scope to his eye once more and scowled at the two men circling the body.

He hadn't been expecting them to arrive so soon; the body should have been there for at least a day or more until someone spotted it. They weren't the type to call the police, but that was the least of his worries. Muttering a string of curses he spun with his cloak whipping around him for the stairs. He had to escape for if they found him, nothing good would come out of it for sure.

Puddles splashed under his feet as he dashed for the door, yanking it open and lunging down the stairs at breakneck speeds. He shouldn't have gotten involved with them… he should have never mentioned his name…

* * *

"Damn it!" the blonde muttered, glancing up from the carcass to his comrade. "Boss won' be pleased," he continued, poking the body's side with the toe of his boot.

"Orlando was reckless- was walking out in the open," the comrade replied scornfully, stepping around the bloodied ground to examine the hole within this skull. "Whoever it was certainly knew what the fuck to do."

"…do you think it's still him Orin? I mean, we haven't heard back from Eric, Rick, and now here's Orlando."

"Most definitely him. No one else would know who to shoot. Thought he was dead as a door nail," Orin nodded. "We'll have to think of another plan to get him. I heard his girl was in the old hospital… maybe that can serve to our advantage. Orlando told me that he had been visiting her nearly every month for the past year- that's gotta mean somethin'."

"Let's go tell Boss, she won't like the news…" the blonde pleaded. "He's takin' us out one by one."

"First, let's clean this up. Don't want anybody sniffin' around like Vincent Valentine did," Orin put on a sly smile. "It just gets people hurt."

* * *

"Vincent?" Tifa smiled as he cautiously stepped through the threshold, his bright eyes scanning the bar. "I've been waiting for you to show up," she continued, drying her hands on the nearest towel before walking around the counter to greet him.

"I have come like I always will," Vincent noted, glancing at the clock upon the wall beside him. Like every month- he had arrived on the same day, same time. For Tifa, every second seemed to be an eternity.

"Would you like something to eat? I was just about to make dinner," Tifa nodded her head at the kitchen behind her, her smile faltering as she watched him consider her request.

His fingers smoothly unbuckled his cloak to rest it along the back of one of the chairs. "Let me help," he urged and followed her into the kitchen.

* * *

Mahogany opened to the dim glow of soft lights and again there was the ceiling. Looking around, she noticed Barret snoring in the seat that Vincent had situated near the bedside; the giant's chin tucked down to support his head. His loud racket overpowered anything else and Tifa quietly wondered how she had slept so soundly before the pain answered in a brief wave of agony.

Biting her lower lip and squeezing her eyes shut, she focused on the sounds around her- anything to draw her frightened mind away from the pain. Her thoughts quickly resurfaced her dream- one that she was fond to play over and over. Unlike most of her wildly created dreams- this one remained infused with the same details of that day. She had never expected Vincent to be an impressive cook, let alone anything else. He had certainly changed since they had dragged him out of that coffin; finally learning how to live again.

A loud creak startled her and she looked for the door, sighing as crimson slipped inside. His eyes found hers in an exhausted greeting.

"You're creating a lake," she said softly, noting to the fairly large puddle around his gold feet.

The gunman instantly looked down and nodded in agreement. "So I am," he said finally. "I see Barret stayed to keep you company."

"He's always been something like a father to me," she sighed, wincing as she shifted her legs. Barret snored more if that was even possible, oblivious that there was a conversation going on without him.

"And the others?" He questioned further.

Tifa shrugged in response, looking about the room for something to entertain herself. It was difficult to find, especially in a gloom hospital room with the only light emanating from a lamp above her bed. The rain struck the window as the wind whistled by and she shuddered involuntarily, never being one who was fond of storms.

"How are you feeling?" Vincent growled, moving to stand on the other side of the bed, regarding Barret with something similar to amusement. Tifa looked up at him with a genuine smile, hoping that he would soften up to her like he usually did.

"Better, but it hurts."

"Of course."

"But it wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't gotten out of the car," she whimpered, closing her eyes sadly.

"It wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't visited you," Vincent answered.

* * *

When she didn't respond, Vincent walked for her, his heart picking up to frantic speeds at the thought that she had left for the Lifestream. Putting a finger to her mouth, he sighed at the feeling of hot air against his glove. She was alive.

He would have to tell her soon, for her sake. As to the others, they would just become more targets to be destroyed. Better to keep Cid waiting for the cursed information than have Cid dead on the pavement.

"I'm so sorry," he told her sleeping form before leaving once again. He had to protect her, no matter what the cost. They would be searching for him now and he had to create a diversion to keep them away from here. The nurses had become accustomed to his unusual appearances and ignored him as he headed for the stairwell. It was just as well, his thoughts were elsewhere.

The rain was cold as he stepped into the downpour, sighing into the dark of the night. No one was around, too late for any sane visitors and too wet for anyone else. He would be able to roam freely without too much concern for someone spotting him.

"Vincent Valentine?"

The gunslinger turned only to face the barrel of a small handgun. The man beyond it was bright blonde and furious. "You're coming with me, sir," he ordered, shoving the weapon further into Vincent's face.

"You cannot be sure, now can you?" Vincent persisted calmly, his hand slipping down for Cerberus' handle.

"Oh yes, I'm positively sure," the blonde finished before Vincent was struck from behind. As part of instinct, the gunslinger slashed out before the sound of a gunshot told him that there was no point.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun DUN! I shall leave it at that for a while. Please leave a review to let me know what you think! Happy New Years!**

**Yours Truly,**

**J**


	11. Die Another Day

Vincent felt spit travel down his chin and shook his head frantically, trying to get rid of the flighty feeling. He didn't know where he was or what had happened to him while he was out… The last thing he did remember was getting hit with something heavy from behind. He didn't even know what time it was, if he had been out for a day, a month…or a year.

The drowsiness refused to fade, no matter how much he attempted to focus on the world outside his own mind. His vision was a complete blur and with a few blinks, all he managed to comprehend was the lack of light emanating from a small bulb somewhere above his head. Part of his mind, the remaining Turk part, reminded him of the dangers of sedatives and Vincent shifted, realizing his lack of movement.

With his arms shackled above his head, he couldn't fight even if he tried. His ankles seemed to be locked to the floor, maybe by weights- immobilizing him even further and the more he struggled, the more complex his binds became. His other senses picked up random things such as a distant voice laughing or a small trickle of water slipping down the sidewall. But what he smelled bothered him the most; blood, both old and new. If the crimson liquid was from him, he had no injuries to show for it- the demons had already cured him of anything that was given.

If he kept his eyes open, his mind strained to make his vision focus- creating a brain sloshing headache. If he let his eyes remained closed then the fear of being caught unawares made his body rigid. He chose the lesser of two evils and kept his pale eyelids shut. There was nothing he could do at the moment; even Chaos would be useless…

His heart continued to pound mercilessly into his ribs and he groaned as his muscles ached at the strain of position. He had to escape, but the question was when, not how. When would be the perfect moment to scare these men into his submission? When would there be an opening?

A cry startled him from his thoughts and he automatically jerked his head up to search for the sound. His eyes were slowly transgressing back to normal, though he would have rather preferred a quicker rate. The objects still remained splotches of different shades of black considering the small amount of light, and the lack of objects in particular made things even harder. All he could conclude from his studies was the cell itself- a four wall room with a heavy door before him: simple, clean, and to the point.

"Look who's awake," a voice snarled, the fake kindness nearly dripping off his words.

The gunman stiffened, how had that man slipped in without him noticing? Blinking bleary eyed ahead, he spotted a slight movement off to the side and focused his attentions there, glowering at the opponent who continued to pace back and forth beside his chained body.

"Tell me," the man continued slyly, "do you fear death?"

"Death is but a gate to another life, one that all shall step through," Vincent stated dryly, turning away to face the outline of a door.

"Fascinating; guess you're one of those bookworms. And you kill on the side? For what- some extra cash to take that lady friend of yours out to somewhere real nice?"

Vincent refused to cringe at the mentioning of Tifa and focused on what was before him. If he even spoke of his life, everything that he knew would be done for. He had witnessed countless torture sessions such as these when he worked as a Turk, serving to drown men in their own despair until they spoke- as if that one deed would free them from their suffering. In the end, their attempts to escape from a world of fear by explaining dark secrets only made them leave it altogether. Many times Vincent had been the one behind the pistol pointing at the witness' head. It made him sick how he had been such a drone; doing everything he was told, including things against his own morals. In a gruesome sense, the position he took with Lucrecia saved him from the world of death, and yet he found himself dead only to be placed a slab for experimentation. His life was full of irony… how amusing.

"So," the man began, poking Vincent's side with a boney finger. "You get to tell me how much you know."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that," the gunman replied. He knew that the man wouldn't quit, they were known for their resilience with suspects. However, Vincent was no fool towards any of his antics.

"Don't push your luck any further- it's just about spent," the stranger warned, his finger continuously digging into his flesh.

Vincent chuckled sarcastically, "Didn't know I had any luck left."

The pain in response wasn't overwhelming, but it still hurt until the prod was drawn away from his side. Small volts continued to shock his system even though the weapon had left his skin and he licked his lips at the metallic aftertaste. He would be able to handle a few more jolts until Chaos' protection, which shrouded his being like a veil, would shatter. The demon's power could only last for so long especially with a constant bantering… and then it would be up to him to control his whimpers.

"I'll keep this up until that mouth of yours pries open," the investigator insisted.

Vincent glared at his form with a sneer, "Then be prepared for a very long day."

* * *

If Tifa had never met Cid, she could have sworn he was currently in a panic. When a nurse ran in screaming that the "red-eyed" man had been kidnapped, the griming reality of the situation finally took light.

"You know, I'm glad the doctor's had to wash the blonde color out," Yuffie whispered when she noticed Tifa's fingers fiddling with her hair. "You look better without it." It was a hint, a subtle hint to the martial artist that she was portraying nervousness which included a haste heartbeat. That would only lead to a disaster- especially when the doctors rushed in. And in a moment such as this, with a friend in great peril, they didn't need any intrusion.

Tifa shrugged, quite unsure how to respond. Instead, she watched Cid pace back and forth at the end of her bed while Barret scratched his chin in thought near the corner. "How are we supposed to create a rescue mission when we don't even know where to rescue?!" The pilot demanded out loud, staring helplessly to the others as if the answers would come from them.

Nanaki padded into the room, his bright gold eyes full of knowledge and understanding. Yuffie squealed at his entrance and hugged his thick neck in search of comfort, "We're stuck Red! Vinnie's missing!"

"So I heard from some of the nurses," the orange beast sighed, sitting on his haunches to allow Yuffie to snuggle into his fur. "It is relieving to see you well Tifa."

Tifa smiled her appreciation and was about to speak to their dear friend when Barret pushed himself from the wall. "Did anyone notice Vince actin' a little strange lately?"

Yuffie pulled away and looked at Barret with a scowl. "Do you honestly think Vinnie's changed? He's still that stubborn, old, sarcastic ass that we all know and love!"

In any other situation, Tifa would have laughed until her sides ached. However, as the memories she shared with Vincent resurfaced, she knew Barret had struck something painfully hard… as if she had been shot all over again, but this time Vincent wasn't around to rush her to the hospital. "Actually," she began softly. "The man who shot me- he said some things that I think everyone should know."

"Tifa?" Shera frowned anxiously.

The martial artist smiled, "I think Vincent has gotten himself into some trouble."

"Ya think?!" Cid snorted loudly.

Tifa ignored him. "The man, well, he said things. Said that Vincent was supposed to be dead; said he wanted Vincent- to, to cry," nibbling on her lower lip she looked up at the group helplessly. Her voice rose to a shrill level as she attempted to quell the rising tears. "Vincent told me that they had no interest in me, that they wanted him. He told me to run… but I didn't- I just stood there!" Her eyes lowered to where her fingers picked at the lint of the quilt draped over the cot. "… I just stood there and all he wanted to do was protect me. I- I should have listened to him."

And with those words, those words which continued to ring inside her skull, her entire resolve disappeared leaving her empty and hopeless just as Cloud had left her to be. Without Vincent, her crumbling world churned into nothing leaving her as an empty shell. All that remained were the charred leftovers of her desires, such as the fleeting wish to witness Vincent's dry humor or even the warmth of his fingers tangled with hers.

Wiping a few tears onto her slick palm, she looked on helplessly as the information gathered into her teammates' minds.

"Sounds like Vincent has gotten himself into a deeper hole than we thought," Nanaki sighed.

"So what's the plan?" Barret insisted.

"We don' have one!" Cid snapped back, pinching the bridge of his nose as Shera insisted he breathe.

"…what if he's already dead?" Yuffie whispered and the silence was heart wrenching. It was the question everyone was afraid to answer… and Tifa didn't want to believe in it. The only hope that resided within her torn heart was the chance that Vincent was alive- and he would return home.

* * *

Vincent groaned in pain, his body sagging against his binds as another kick in the side forced his lungs to gag. "Tell me now dammit!" the tormentor cried, his patience long since spent which left him alone with his rage. Again, Vincent's body throbbed as the rod released a multitude of shocks into his system, allowing them to run to his fingers and back again.

"You'll die if you don't," the man continued, the force within his kicks gaining new vigor. Choking, Vincent's eyes slowly opened- allowing the mako glow to enter the gloom while his blood ran afire through his veins. His thoughts instantly went toTifa, and the promise he swore he would keep. _I will always be by her side._

"Guess I'll die another day."


	12. I Have You

**A/N: Wow, have I been gone for a while... sorry about that. So here's a very overdue chapter for everybody. Please enjoy!**

* * *

When Cid's phone began to play one of the most annoying tunes that he could have conjured up- everyone jumped. Yuffie even squeaked only to glare at Cid who seemed torn on teasing the young woman.

"If you don't answer that damn thing, I personally will," Barret grumbled, the tune quickly repeating itself.

Shera scowled at the giant before snatching Cid's phone off his hip. Flipping the lid with a gentle nudge, she continued her scowl- now directed at Cid while she listened to the other side.

Her face quickly transformed into something close to horror and she yanked it from her ear before pressing a random button. Drowning in bandages and blankets, Tifa squinted curiously as Shera held the phone away from her- towards the center of the room.

"I cannot talk for long…" The deep baritone penetrated Tifa's heart, and she sat up quickly. Agony lashed through her side as her body refused to move and with a whimper, she settled back down. A weak chuckle followed, "Easy Tifa. I'm alright."

"You won't be when you get back here!" Cid seethed, his relief switching to boiling anger. "I plan on kicking your ass back into that coffin!" Finished with his rant, Shera smacked him across the back of his cranium.

"It's a date then," Vincent replied dryly. "They are coming… I must do this quick… Tifa- you must get out there, they are coming for you in attempts to hurt me. Please, listen to me and follow my orders. Go to The Shera and remain there until I come for you. Cid, I need you to pilot The Shera above Edge… I'll be able to get in… though; I might be a little ornery." Another attempt for humor and Tifa grunted.

"Sure, suddenly you're the leader," Cid complained vehemently.

"Not now Cid…" His voice grew harsh as something seemed to explode- or implode. More voices surrounded Vincent's dark one before a roar nearly shattered the small speaker… then the line ceased to exist.

No one needed confirmation on what had occurred- or on what Vincent had become. Barret lurched himself from the wall and headed over for Tifa. As their eyes met, her head nodded with encouragement- if anything, Barret would always know how to act while everyone else stood dumbfounded.

Returning to life, Cid blinked and began animation again- quite wildly in fact. His arms waved about as he stormed up to the other side of the bed while Barret began unplugging machinery from Tifa. "What the hell do you think yer doin'?" The pilot demanded, his face flushing.

"Followin' Vince's orders," Barret rumbled. "Or, would yer rather prefer 'requests'?"

Yuffie jumped forward and began tucking the blankets around Tifa's legs securely. "I'll help!" She announced, as if she would do anything else… Tifa remained quiet, but beneath her stone exterior rested turmoil of war. Part of her wanted to help Vincent, maybe find him to come for the rescue. Another part informed her of his words, how he wanted her in the air. To keep her safe.

"Oh, damn it all," Cid finished, his cheeks dropping to a soft pale color as he began working on the other side of the bed; plugs flailing as they were yanked from their designated housings.

"Should I inform the doctors?" Shera suggested, remaining rooted to the same spot as before.

"I suggest we leave as quickly as possible," Nanaki advised. "So, no… we will call and inform them later."

"Great, now this has turned into a kidnapping," Tifa groaned.

"A very good kidnapping though," Yuffie supplied, "besides, this isn't technically kidnapping- since you're not a kid and we're not napping."

"Thanks for the analysis," Cid grunted, shoving an unlit cigarette between his teeth with shaking fingers.

"Okay, you good over there?" Barret finished, straightening while examining his work.

"Yep, you doing the weight lifting or am I?" the pilot grumbled.

"I love being dead weight," Tifa answered sarcastically.

Barret chuckled as his firm hands griped the bed and began pushing it for the exit. Nanaki bounded ahead, walking quickly past the nurses and doctors who seemed oblivious to their mad dash for the front doors. Tifa's fingers intertwined with each other, the clammy sweat along her palms mingling in the space between her hands. Her world was spinning with fear and everything seemed to be a danger. When would there ever be a time where she could rest in peace?

The wait at the elevator was the longest and most frustrating moment Tifa had ever witnessed. For one thing, Cid would probably need to pay for a new down button to the elevator and two; she was receiving more concerned stares from the hospital staff. It wasn't normal for a patient to be connected to an IV, along with much more machinery being guided by Shera and Yuffie attached to her. The equipment had to have cost a fortune and here they were, walking away with it.

"Incoming," Yuffie hissed. A young woman dressed in a white coat came up to Barret with a frown, the corners of her lips dipping more and more with gravity.

"I'm sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to come with me," she said carefully with a guarded expression plastered on her face.

"I'm sorry, but we are currently transporting Miss. Lockhart to a boarding ship where she will be staying until she arrives at Wuati." Tifa's eyes widened as she stared at the speaker, the cigarette suddenly gone from his mouth as he stood, almost professionally before the stunned doctor.

Yuffie fought down a wave of laughter through a carefully concealed choke, though Tifa could tell the mirth radiating off her bowed face so near her. As the doctor considered his information, the elevator beeped it's arrival and Barret quickly ushered Tifa's cot in. Cid nodded respectfully and ended the little party- letting the doors close behind him.

"I'm not sure if I should kiss you or laugh," Shera admitted and Barret roared in laughter.

"I can't believe she actually fell for that! You, of all people trying to pull of a professional outlook!" Yuffie broke, her eyes beginning to water as she clutched her sides.

"I think I did pretty damn well!" Cid answered indignantly.

"You did wonderfully Cid," Tifa stifled a snort. In all her wildest dreams, she could never consider Cid the most presentable type.

"Thought so," He finished with a crooked grin, the doors opening once more behind him and they were shoving themselves out of the small space.

"I suggest back door," Nanaki noted gently, his eyes focused on the silent front door. The eeriness of it made Tifa's skin crawl, and she desperately felt the need to run.

"I vote yes," Barret grunted, leading the way for the back of the hospital. "Cid, you goin' to get yer bird or what?"

Cid's eyes rolled for the sky before he took off, disappearing out of sight through the looming back doors. Nanaki stopped along side to let them pass, Tifa twisting around to watch where he was off to.

"I'll take the rear, who knows where these men are," the orange cat announced, his bright golden eyes smiling at Tifa until she turned her head around.

"Excuse me?!" A frantic voice called, Tifa jumped and her legs instinctively curled for her chest- the bandages strapped along her torso straining to comply.

"I'll handle it," Nanaki growled and his essence disappeared from behind them.

The fresh air was welcoming, even though the brisk cold stung anything unprotected. Rain pelted down around them, though the group was safely protected by a steel overhang- water droplets splattering down along the sides.

"I'm going to go help Red," Yuffie whispered before she too disappeared, leaving Tifa to be consumed by the silence from both Barret and Shera.

Rain continued its endless downpour, the roar overpowering anything else from the outside world. Only the movement of dim lights signaled the arrival of The Shera. Until the ship was situated right before them, there was no low hum of any engines. A foreign space craft, hovering right outside the awning. Without waiting for any confirmation from Tifa, Barret surged ahead; the wheels of the helpless cot grating along the rough pavement.

Through the grey haze of rain, the shape of the ramp took form- resting almost eight feet off the ground. Fear wrapped itself around Tifa as she considered the possibilities of her even able of getting into the ship in such a state.

"Get her in there now!" Nanaki snarled from behind, his growls creating new shivers to skip along Tifa's skin. "They're here!"

Barret couldn't fight- for Shera didn't have the strength to lift a cot with a human body in it alone. But the tension had risen to a maximum and Barret thrusted Tifa out into the rain where she quickly began to get drenched.

"Go Barret, I'll handle her." His voice, softer and a little weak, but his voice just the same.

"Nice timin' Vince," Barret grumbled and his hulking mass disappeared back beneath the awning where it sounded as if a war was taking place.

Then his eyes appeared before her, focusing on her gaze. His hair was matted and blood stained, his cloak sodden with water, but his eyes remained as powerful as they always were. "Remember, you need to breathe," Vincent noted, his gentle touch prying out the needles that attached her to the countless pieces of machinery.

Beside her, Shera was scrambling aboard, turning with her arms outstretched in preparation to help Tifa along. Instead, Vincent lowered himself, his arms snaking around her while she began to clutch at his neck on her own accord. "Trust me," he grunted, before his legs sprung and forced them flying upwards.

Tifa had seen him jump countless times, how as if he was flying instead of falling back into the ground. It was inhuman how he preformed things and Tifa gasped at the feeling of freefall as he landed awkwardly into the cargo hold of The Shera. Behind them, the other team members were jumping on board themselves before the door began to close and the engines roared with power.

Remaining on his knees, Tifa listened to him while her fingers remained frozen against his cloak. Trembling from both the cold and the anxiety of it all, she buried her face into his shoulder. "I have you," Vincent whispered gently, his body beginning to rock lightly. "I'll always have you."

Pulling away from him, she stared in shock at his face. In that moment, her body moved fluidly on its own- her mind elsewhere. She was absorbing him, focusing on his beauty, his voice, everything… until she realized he had welcomed her kiss…


	13. His Mistake

**A/N: So you guys have permission to stab me. The hectic days of high school are finally over with and I managed to sit down and write this. It may be short- but it contains important information. Hopefully my next update won't take this long to publish!!**

* * *

She was sleeping, drugged for her protection at least. Of course there had been bickering, but with the lack of machinery for the briefest moment, her body had started an internal panic. So, with The Shera's latest medical technology plugged in, they had sedated her to keep the injured body in a comatose state.

Pacing at the end of her bed, his attentions remained focused on her pale face. Sweat beaded her brow as cracked lips moved in a light swallow.

Tifa was growing worse, even though no one wished to state it.

His stare hardened and a jaw clenched until it was screwed to his skull. The kiss had been a mistake- a horrible mistake. Within the gauntlet, his hand twitched until the muscle ache intensified. Not only had he failed to take care of her, but himself as well.

Strangling a sigh, seemingly too loud for such a hollow place, he trudged regretfully towards the small table and chair off to the side. Meant for small injury care, it served a perfect position for Vincent- situated across the large metal door with the ability to glance at every corner of the room.

The gauntlet clicked as it touched the smooth metal surface, his fingers flexing feebly within the coverings. The pain intensified as he ran his free hand over the bindings, prying the hidden latches free until it neatly fell apart. The clang included was startling, and his gaze once again refocused to Tifa as the adrenaline faded.

It had become a routine and he barely thought of the details- refused to think of the details. Hojo had forced him to recall the memories, every time it was necessary for the massage. If he stopped these weekly routines, the use of his arm would become something similar to a log.

Wincing at the acrid smell of sweat and contained flesh, Vincent carefully pulled the black glove away- exposing the reminder to his memories. Until he was certain a veil of his hair obscured his vision, his probing fingers carefully began rubbing the muscle itself; ignoring the small wisps of skin dotting the red meat like fresh snowflakes against black pavement. His thumb scouted ahead, noting where the veins ran in case his massaging led to a bloody massacre. If he made the wrong move, he would be dead in a puddle of blood.

"You should have showed us that earlier," the gruff voice whispered.

Vincent looked up from his intent study of the floor, his breath hitched as he stared at the captain of this vessel. Swallowing heavily, his head jerked away to resume what he had started.

Cid stepped forward until he settled in the chair opposite of the gunslinger. Vincent rumbled thoughtfully, refusing to meet the gaze as the pilot wiggled into the seat. "No smoking Cid," he stated. "You're in the wrong area."

"I'm in the damn right area," Cid snapped. He waved about him, Vincent catching it in glimpses. "My ship."

"I'm not here for your viewing pleasure Highwind," Vincent muttered, wincing as he pressed non-too-gently on the object of his focus.

"I know," the pilot replied with much more kindness than Vincent had been expecting. "At least you're doing this in a clean place. I don't even want to know where yer arm has been."

Head snapping up, Vincent snarled- as close as he could to Chaos' which wasn't too difficult. With accumulating frustration and embarrassment, the demon wished to add to his torments as well.

"So, want to explain to me why it ain't healin'?" Cid pressed, leaning over it as if it were a dainty flower instead of the true gruesome sight.

Looking at it for the first time, Vincent trembled. "I suppose it has something to do with the mako experiments and enhancements. It reminds me what I want to forget. "

Cid grunted nonchalantly. "And you have to do this?"

"If I want to keep it, yes."

"Why don't you go to those guys who are claimin' to be on a breakthrough for that organic replacement shit? They might be able to give you a better arm than what you got." The pestering was beginning to enter all new levels.

"I will not become an experiment," Vincent hissed.

"You should show Tifa." Vincent had been used to Cid's spontaneous conversation changes; even so, this one threw him off guard. Masking his surprise with indifference, he shrugged while his fingers reached the top of his forearm.

"There's no reason to. I have handled the situation since the beginning of my second existence. I do not need to have her fearing for me when there is nothing to be concerned about."

"This is most definitely somethin' to worry about!" Cid hollered. The gunslinger glared at him, willing his voice to return to indoor levels. Tifa didn't need to wake up, even if she were still medicated. It could wear off at any minute and leave him exposed and uncomfortable. "What you don't understand Vince, is what I know."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, his gaze cold and aloof for answers. Cid chewed his cheek before leaning in- even closer to the monstrosity of an arm. "Yuffie blabbed about your kiss in the hatch," he whispered. "She kissed first, and if you loved her, you would show her yer weakness. I doubt she would flip out anyways."

"Thank you for your wonderful advice Cid," Vincent growled sarcastically. "I shall cherish it always. Now, don't you have a ship to drive- or are we planning to crash into the nearest mountain peak?"

"Find yer head Vincent Valentine, yer goin' to need it," Cid spat. The chair wobbled as he stormed away- the door closing with the natural hiss.

"The kiss was a mistake," he repeated to himself. "I cannot lead her down a path she shouldn't take." With a muffled groan, he tilted his head down until his pent up emotions spilled freely. His shoulders shook with each sob and his fingers remained frozen where they had left off._ I cannot love her… no matter how much I want it. She will die if I do._

* * *

The cloaked figure moved about her army- her black clothed form blending into the shadows as she traveled. The men situated along the tables stared unabashed as she passed.

"Many have failed me, to bring down the threat," she began coolly. "I do not want Vincent Valentine to learn our true purpose here. Do you understand?"

A chorus of 'yes ma'am' reached her ears. From behind the black cloth, her lips curved into a proud smile.

"Then find Vincent Valentine, more so than you have ever searched before. Tell me where he hides and bring him to me. I will gladly take his love as well, if you be so bold. The one who succeeds will remain with me and lead by my side. This mission must succeed for our goal depends on it."

The cheer following made her chuckle, dark and brooding. The thought of fear plastered to the demon host's face sent shivers up her spine. His pain would bring salvation to others. All they needed was him… and only the woman named Tifa Lockhart stood in the way.


	14. Revealed

**A/N: --Crouches behind wall-- Hi guys... sorry for the lack of updating- but I just started college and wow has there been a lack of writing time. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter- it's got a little bit of everything. I'll try to update sooner than later this time. Please leave a review on your way out. --J  
**

* * *

"Hey ya'll are messin' up my ship!" Cid's voice rang true through the intercom; a loud rebuttal from Yuffie quickly in pursuit. Vincent slowly took the steps up towards the deck, wallowing within his cloak and self-pity.

Beyond the cool metal doors laid an expanse of questions, each with it's own distinct answer. He had thought all of them through, down to the smallest detail. None of the fellow AVALANCHE crew would be able to provoke him into a massacre.

The doors hissed at his approach- sliding open to reveal Yuffie's bright face. She pointed a slender finger at his forehead, his height not quite as menacing being a few stairs down.

"I thought there was something between you two," she smiled, the typical ninja who planned ninja adventures. Yuffie was up to no good, as usual.

"There is nothing between us." An instant defense. He had mulled over that topic as well, while putting the gauntlet over his memories. It wasn't quite as difficult as he had assumed- the answer flowing freely from his lips.

"That's a load of crap," She pulled away from him, successfully blocking his escape with her hands on her hips. Her twisted face said otherwise. Yuffie was clueless to the true nature of the swirling chaos of his friendship with Tifa. Yuffie certainly didn't want to assume wrong.

Regaining his intimidation stature with the staircase, he towered over her. "Move Yuffie." His mood swings were unlikely helping the situation, but he could help it. The confusion that came with even Tifa's name sent his orderly world tumbling into rubble. There was no end in sight either. Sighing in frustration, he glowered over the cowl of his cloak- leaving Yuffie dumbfounded as he stalked away.

Nanaki turned his bright eyes upon him as he passed the pilot deck- Cid multitasking behind the wheel. If they all died from his misjudgment- perhaps it would serve as a good purpose in the end.

Vincent banished the thought as it came.

"You thought you could just hide in the Medbay, didn't you?" Yuffie blabbered, bouncing up to his side. So he had collected another shadow- but this one he could shoot. A pleasant thought.

"…Yuffie…"

"-I mean, I know how you are with Tifa, but it wouldn't have done-"

"…Yuffie."

"-any good just standing around there like an idiot." She looked up at him thoughtfully, placing a finger against her bottom lip. "You know, Tifa might like you without the cloak. Add a nice shirt with the top button open and you'd be all set. Women like men in leather pants and a little skin showing."

Vincent blinked. Cid looked up from lighting a cigarette. "Yuffie, quit with the mental images!" Even as he said it, his eyes flickered to Vincent- eyeing the gunman with a curious look.

"No Cid." It was better to stop the both of them before his whole wardrobe was transformed without his approval.

"Ten bucks you change after this," Cid muttered, returning to the open flame in his hands.

"Vincent, we need information to save Tifa," Nanaki padded around to sit on the steps, curling up there. It was a surprise the large cat could fit in such a small space.

All the preparation inside the Medbay didn't perform exactly as Vincent had hoped. His shoulders stiffened as he turned to study the large creature. "Yes," he answered darkly.

"Uh… Vinnie, that means you're supposed to start speaking more than one syllable answers," Yuffie tapped him on the shoulder while holding her stomach with her free hand. Ah yes, Yuffie had difficulty flying.

Though he did pity Yuffie's predicament, Vincent allowed the small wry smile to creep onto his lips. "The bathroom is down the hall Yuffie," he stated, glancing at her briefly.

Yuffie stamped one foot, ignoring the pain in her stomach, "I intend on listening in Vinnie, unless you plan on speaking twice in one day. It would be a miracle."

Barret folded his arms, becoming a wall of thick muscle. So there was no possibility of slipping out of the conversation's grasp. Vincent's only means of escape vanished with trills of evil laughter. "Come on Vince, you gonna tell us or what?"

Twisting away from the expectant stares, Vincent turned to the passing clouds outside instead. The world was rushing by, yet time seemed to slow here. Sighing at the heavy burden, he raised his head so the others could be prepared for his speech.

"I work as a mercenary." Simple enough statement, and the easiest truth in his eyes; it would only become more difficult from here.

Yuffie's eyes widened as she staggered over to him. Perhaps if he waited patiently long enough, Yuffie's need for the bathroom would become too great for her to handle. Wishful thinking. "You're a Merc? Vinnie, what made you do that?!" She slapped the nearest arm, cradling her hand when it was the gauntlet instead.

So the easy had become the difficult. Of course it was his luck. "Yes Yuffie."

Her foot slammed against the floor again. "Oooh! Stop the one worded answers with me you big hunk!"

The smirk was there before he could drive it away. "…Hunk…?"

Yuffie shrugged, happy for the given response. Vincent's face drew blank with the realization. It would only give him a headache if he encouraged her. "Well ya do look good with Tifa! I mean, I'm surprised she hasn't said that yet. Compliments usually happen before the kiss. Guess you guys work backwards."

Oh no. Barret's stature became even more intimidating as he nearly lunged for Vincent. It took the gunman only a moment to realize the danger before retreating a step. Barret's face twisted in a snarl, replacing the lost step with one of his own.

"Vincent," He growled, his gaze sparkling with determination. "What are you doing to Tifa?"

"Nothing to concern you," Vincent replied readily, his eyes narrowing.

Barret's face shined with fury. "She's like a daughter to me Vince! What the hell have you done?!" The large giant crouched offensively as he took another step for Vincent. "I'm growin' tired of you taking advantage of 'er. She gets shot because of you, and now she's gotta to face you and yer stupid, fucked up feelings!"

"Get off my ship if you plan on fightin' to the death," Cid bellowed over them, his face scrunched with frustration.

Vincent skirted around Barret, his slight movements forcing the giant to follow in attempts to keep him in visual. If there would be a battle, Vincent had every intention to be prepared. "I have no understanding why they would strike at Tifa, it is I who frustrated them."

Yuffie, quiet but with widened eyes looked at him. "Who's _they_ exactly?"

"An employer." Vincent ducked as Barret made a swing- his large metal arm swirling the air inches above his head. Leaping away once the space above him was clear- Vincent straightened to regard all of them at a farther distance.

"Get _off_ my ship!" Cid shouted, his face reddening as he glared at the two of them.

Sending the pilot a glance, Vincent quickly refocused on Barret as the lumbering man literally sneaked around the global map in the centre of the deck. Impressed by the lack of sound from Barret, the gunman grunted his response as crimson orbs followed the giant's every move.

"What happened with this employer Vincent?" Nanaki inquired, his tail lashing to and fro around his hind legs. If anyone would be on his side, Vincent surely had suspected Nanaki- but the feline refused to acknowledge Barret's constant approach. Everyone refused to step in and aid him in preventing a brawl on The Shera.

The focused gazes sent his way told him he deserved what Barret was attempting to do. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but Vincent decided his choice of action.

"I met a representative of the employer, though through careful prodding I discovered it was a female," Vincent replied to Nanaki, his feet shuffling backwards as Barret continued to force them in an endless circle around the globe. "I worked for her a less than five months, during which I claimed thirty three lives. Halfway through my services, I began to question who these victims were and why the death toll was at such high numbers."

Barret leaped again, aiming for his head. Vincent slipped out of the way… barely. Slipping till the globe was once again between the two of them, Vincent continued to circle with Barret. The giant grunted his frustration, but remained silent.

"_My_ ship!" Cid responded.

Vincent continued, "…I began an investigation of my own and learned who these men I killed were."

Yuffie pouted. "Diplomats? Gangsters? Doctors?" She frowned at Vincent's lack of response, "…Whores?" Vincent glowered in her direction.

"No… scientists."

The ninja sighed, scowling at the tiling beneath her sneakers. "That would've been my next guess."

"Any connection?" Nanaki cut in, his eyes narrowing at the hundreds of ideas.

Vincent nodded while dodging a wide swing from Barret. "All had begun a study on Geostigma." The cigarette between Cid's teeth fell to the floor and Barret froze in his predatory hunt. The silence in the room was haunting as Vincent straightened, silently agreeing with their initial shock.

"Why?" The playful questioning out of Yuffie's voice, she sounded surprisingly older than Vincent would ever expect. The wise grey eyes of hers told him of the pain this information had brought forth.

"I never learned why. My employment was terminated a few days later," Vincent studied the globe sadly. If only he hadn't been discovered.

Barret's upper lip curled, a mock up of Chaos' true fury. "How does this deal with Tif?"

Vincent's throat rolled in a swallow as he debated his options carefully. Each word had to be planted correctly or Barret was sure to whip out his mechanical arm and shoot him till he was a pile of red cloak. "I was aiding her with the bar most of my free time. With the lack of Cloud's presence…" The audience fell eerily quiet and the gunman froze.

Barret's dark eyes flashed with untold rage. "Just because he ain't here doesn't mean you could just replace him!"

Vincent's metal digits flexed warningly, whipping away from beneath his cloak to dance in the twilight. Behind dark ebony strands, his eyes warned the others to leave the caged animal alone. "I didn't replace Cloud. I was there because she needed me."

The gunman recognized the coiling of Barret's thick muscle along his arms and legs, but unheeded the danger. Whatever was to come, he truly felt he did deserve it.

Cid's cursing was all that was exclaimed before Barret's metal fist struck Vincent's jaw line. Inside his mouth, teeth rattled at the brute force. Staggering, but standing upright, Vincent swallowed the copper tang forming against his tongue. Running the wet muscle along the insides of his cheeks, he found the cut, hot and fresh along the corner of his lip.

Gold fingers reached up to run along the swelling skin of his cheek and jaw- his gaze flickering to the startled expressions of the AVALANCHE memebers. Yuffie's hand slipped to her mouth, covering the dropping of her own jaw.

"If you aren't finished, then get of my fucking ship!" Cid screeched.

"We're finished," Vincent murmured; side stepping around Barret with a glare. The giant ignored his silent threats and turned with him- never letting him face his back.

His golden clad boots clicked briskly down the stairs as he cradled his face with tender care. It would be swollen and bruised- the angry flesh throbbing. Swallowing another mouthful of blood, he stormed for his room at the far end of the hallway. His cloak billowed around him as he slipped past the doorway towards the Medbay, hearing Shera's voice wafting past the seal. Another, more faint voice followed and he grimaced.

Tifa had awoken.

Ignoring the sudden desire to face her, to apologize for putting her through such danger- he continued for his room. Only when he slipped into the familiar darkness did he unbuckle the crimson cloak and let it pool about his feet in a sea of crimson. Stepping out of the fabric, he shucked the rest of his clothing to the floor in the darkness.

His clothes soon became breadcrumbs to the bathroom where he finally flicked a switch. Blinking at the startling transfer, he gazed at his form in the mirror. His gaze focused on the newly acquired injury before traveling lower till the mirror ended- examining the countless scars.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped into the shower- shoving the curtain closed behind him. The nozzle gushed cold water as he turned the handle, but he ignored the shudders his body produced. Pressing his human palm against the wall, he waited as water droplets dripped from his skin.

Now they knew, the simple details to say the least. Vincent understood he would be loathed for some time, until they grasped reality once again. His injury reminded him it was still there and he gingerly touched it again- only to flinch.

* * *

Tifa couldn't be saved with the aid of Materia with the medication swimming through her system. The doctors had warned of a dangerous reaction had they tried. If she couldn't, then neither would he. He would bear the mark.

Tifa smiled at Shera muttering about the ruckus within the ship while she had been out. It was pleasant to speak to another- feel like things were beginning to draw back to normalcy. Cid's wife glanced at the monitor, murmuring once again as she jotted down notes on a pad of paper- most likely the results she had read. Tifa only saw jagged lines.

"I didn't know you were a doctor Shera," Tifa said slowly, coughing with a wince. Her side ached, not as badly as before. The medication the doctors had given was a miracle towards the pain until Shera announced Cure Materia would fail because of it.

"Someone has to patch up the crew when Cid gets into trouble," Shera frowned. Apparently it happened more than she preferred. Snickering at the woman's expression, the two of them grinned at each other. "It's good to see you feeling so well Tifa," Shera continued happily.

"The pain isn't quite there anymore, thanks to whatever I'm on," she nodded, feeling grimy hair slide through her waiting fingers. Wrinkling her nose, she stared at Shera helplessly. "I look hideous, don't I?"

The pilot's wife shook her head. "You look like a woman who's gone through hell for the past few days. I'd relax about your looks if I were you. Vincent certainly doesn't care."

Tifa's eyes brightened at his name. Her thoughts replayed the unsuspected kiss they had shared before he carried her silently through the ship for the Medbay. There she had fallen asleep, with his gaze focused on hers as the drugs were administered. There had been something there in his gaze, an important clue to the puzzle of Vincent. Sadly, she couldn't understand the expression he had given, but it didn't make her happy.

The doors slid open then and both women raised their heads to look and see the guest.

"Yuffie, I thought you were supposed to be at the meeting Cid called," Shera frowned again, her lips curving down so much they were forming angry lines on her face.

Yuffie bounded into the room, smiling brightly at Tifa. "You're sitting up! And you actually look good!"

Sighing at being ignored, Shera stole a glance in the martial artists direction. "I told you, you look wonderful Tifa."

"For an injured girl," Yuffie added. "Vincent just told us a whole boatload of information. I just came out of the bathroom and thought I would visit you," Yuffie's face squinted at the former memory. "Never eat eggs before a flight."

Tifa exposed her tongue in a disgusted way. "A little too much information Yuffs." She laughed anyways, too happy for the company than to worry over the prospect of Yuffie's vomit.

Shera raised an eyebrow. "So tell us of the meeting Yuffie." The curiosity hidden in her eyes said differently to the calm exterior she expressed. Tifa raised an eyebrow. This meeting had been important. Why hadn't they woken her up for it?

"Eh," Yuffie shrugged, "pretty much Vince is in deep doo-doo with some employer who wanted something to do with Geostigma." Her eyes brightened at another thought. "Did you guys know Vinnie took up a job as a Merc?! I never thought I would hear that come out of his mouth." Waving that away, she continued fervently with her story, rocking on her heels near the foot of Tifa's bed. "From what I got, this woman has little minions out to try and kill Vincent but looks like they've failed at that. So now they're after you 'cause he spent some time with you."

"Makes sense," Tifa nodded. She swallowed down the thickness compiling in her throat. It wouldn't take much for her to start worrying, leaving her composure in the dust.

Yuffie quickly raised her hand, preventing any further input. "Then Barret decided to go all ballistic on Vincent and smacked ol' Vinnie in the jaw! Looked like it hurt too."

Shera sighed, placing a delicate hand to her forehead. "I had a feeling a brawl would start- didn't think it would occur with Barret though." Tifa instantly knew who she had expected the culprit to be. Cid.

Turning to Yuffie, Tifa sucked her lower lip into her mouth- chewing the flesh thoughtfully. Releasing her hold, her brow furrowed. "Where's Vincent?"

"Don't know. Cid and Barret are discussing the details and it got a little boring for me- besides I really, really had to go to the bathroom." The ninja waved her hands to express how _really_ she had to.

"I could get you something to soothe your stomach Yuffie," Shera expressed fervently- eyeing the young woman cautiously. The last thing Tifa wanted to see was the contents of Yuffie's stomach all over her sheets.

Oblivious to the worried glances she was receiving, Yuffie nodded. "That'd be great!" Looking over at Tifa, she motioned to the door. "I could find Vinnie for you too."

Tifa shook her head, glancing over at Shera. "I was told I'd be able to move around today."

Cid's wife nodded. "Yes, with the help of a wheelchair for a while. I made Cid move your room closer in the hallway so you'll have an easy time moving about. I take it you want to leave right now- perhaps freshen up in your bathroom."

Tifa nodded- not expressing the truth of her intention. She intended on going farther down the hallway than just to her room. Shera stepped over to the waiting wheelchair in the corner of the room and rolled it over.

"Now Tifa, just give me a shout when you start feeling pain again. It means we can give you Materia and finish the healing process."

Smirking, Tifa snorted. "Yes Dr. Shera." The older woman sent Tifa a glare but remained quiet at the remark.

Yuffie clasped Tifa's right elbow as she was slowly transferred down into the leather seat. Once situated with a blanket draped over her legs for extra warmth- Tifa tested her abilities to manipulate the chair. "Not so bad," she whispered, maneuvering herself towards the door.

"Tifa!" Shera called, but Tifa refused to look back as she rolled herself into the hallway. "Promise me you'll get help when you need it. I don't need you to be stuck in the bathroom and refuse help because you prefer independence!"

"Promise!" Tifa shouted over her shoulder- glancing at the far end of the hallway. Vincent's door remained closed. Sighing, she turned the wheels slightly and began her journey through the never ending hallway. Already her arms ached at the constant motion they had to continue to keep the chair moving, but she ignored it and instead focused on the metal door.

When the distance between them diminished, her voice cracked at such a high intensity. "Vincent! Open the door!" She glared at the handle, daring it to curve downwards in hopes that the gunman had heard her pleas. It remained where it was and she scowled at it.

There were no thoughts in her mind as she inched closer till she could pull the handle herself. The only sound emitted past her lips was the soft escape of air as the door gave way to her gentle push- exposing the darkness of the typical preferences of Vincent.

Without the barrier of the door, she could hear the splatter of running water from the bathroom. Moving forward, she could see the small crack of light glowing from beneath the frame. Giving the open door another push, it clicked closed- enveloping her in the darkness provided.

The light switch wasn't difficult to find as she groped around the doorway. Upon finding it, she found no hesitation in turning it on. What she found however did startle her. His clothes made a pathway for the door- each one crumpled and forgotten in his haste. From what she had viewed in his own home, this was a habit Vincent rarely preformed.

Her gaze slid for the bathroom's door once again, almost hasty and skittish. He was in there and sadly; her imagination was doing quite a bit of thinking on that thought. Scolding her brain pathetically, she rapped her knuckles against the nearest wall- earning quite a loud bang.

"Vincent!" Her voice sounded foreign in such a strange setting, but the instant cease of water sent her stomach downwards. He had heard her.

With straining ears, she caught small tidbits of shuffling through the door till the bathroom lights turned off. Frowning, she sighed- ignoring the small throb of pain. "Vincent, I'm not an idiot. You're still in the bathroom."

The door swung open, and she caught a glimpse of gold as the hand was withdrawn once again into the awaiting darkness. Even with the light from the bedroom, the details of the room were blurred, but she could just make out his legs up till the hem of a towel wrapped around his waist. The rest of his body remained in shadow.

"Yes," his voice was a soft murmur as he retreated back another step.

Tifa huffed loudly, "I'm sorry about the intrusion, but you don't have to act all petrified on me."

He growled, "I'm not petrified."

She raised an eyebrow till it couldn't reach any higher. "Then why play hide and go seek?"

"I just got out of the shower," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Vincent," Tifa grumbled, annoyed with his actions. "If you were really worried, you would have put some damn pants on."

"I didn't say I was. So what brought you here?"

If she had the strength, she would have shook him senseless. "Yuffie told me about what happened today." Even through her fury, her voice was hushed- soothing a startled animal. She pouted at that idea- Vincent wasn't a startled animal.

"I suppose she would." Tifa could imagine him nodding his head with it, and glanced in the bathroom's direction.

"I came to see if you were okay." Suddenly her visit didn't sound at all appealing, even to her. If Vincent wanted to express how he was, he would have paid her a visit after the meeting. He had purposely avoided her.

"You seem well, considering you're out of the Medbay. I wasn't expecting you to have such freedom."

Tifa's eyes narrowed at the dark. "I know I wasn't invited, but you don't have to be so rude in kicking me out." She slowly turned one wheel in attempts to reach for the door.

"I'm not making you leave. I'm stating facts."

Tifa returned her focus to the bathroom once again, her gaze softening at an idea. "I want to see you Vincent."

"I would prefer not," He responded quickly. Not fast enough to draw suspicions into his claim, but Tifa already had her suspicions. Vincent was Vincent, more concerned for her wellbeing than his own.

"Come over here," she insisted, growing more frustrated with him.

"No."

"Vincent Valentine, you either come over here on your own freewill or I will go over there and corner you in the bathroom." Her eyes glowered with the very intention of blockading him in the small room.

She heard the heavy sigh before he stormed into the light. Tifa's gaze automatically slipped downwards briefly- noting pale skin over tight muscle. Her heart swooned until she gazed up at his brooding face.

"Oh Vince," she cooed softly, eyeing the angry mark along his cheek and jaw line. His beautiful face was marred with red puffy skin, slowly transforming to a dark purple. Crimson eyes were focused on his shirt lying on the floor, but she watched sadly as humiliation radiated off him in waves.

"I know you're faster than him, why'd you let him do that?" She reached out towards him- unabashed at his lack of clothing at the moment. Vincent's gaze flickered to her hand, watching it strain towards him.

"Because it felt needed at the time." He shook his head slightly. "I took advantage of you in the hanger."

Reluctantly, he finished the gap and clasped her hand within his own. Her head was level with his navel and he flinched as her gaze traveled up the scars to his collarbone where she finally met the latest injury. Her free hand slipped from the handle of the wheelchair and stretched for his face.

Dropping to his knees with his claw keeping the towel firmly in place- he avoided her gaze as she skimmed her fingers over the angry skin. "You should cure this." No scolding, no sympathy- merely a helpful tip.

"Not now," he answered, finally looking at her with enough intensity to force her to lean back as far as the chair could allow. With his hand still gripping hers, she couldn't retreat from him like his eyes told her to.

Stroking the line from his ear to the corner of his injured lip, she could only nod. There was no point in fighting, for his stubbornness was too thick for her to fight through. "You have your reasons."

Vincent nodded slowly, mindful to make sure her fingers didn't poke the injured cheek further. "I do."

Tifa began chewing on her lower lip again; mentally wondering if would break with her constant toying. Slipping her hand free of his, she let it skim over the skin of his arm and up behind his head.

Vincent instantly stiffened and began to pull away- balking at the sudden restraint. Grasping a fistful of his hair, she drew him in, her calm gaze searching his startled expression. Through the corner of her vision, she noticed his throat roll in a thick swallow.

She had no intention of letting go of her advantage. He needed to know what she wanted from him. What her desires had been for quite some time.

Now she understood the expression he had given. It had been one of fear. Tifa knew she had to banish the fear- prove to him she had been in her own mind that fateful day in the hanger. She was tired of dancing on glass with him around.

Leaning forward as much as her body allowed, she let her lips skim the injury carefully, relishing in the trembles of his response. His breathing came quickly and thick as he once again tried to pull away.

"Tifa, this isn't a good idea," His mouth whispered against the skin of her face, warm breath on cold skin.

"Why not," she moved her head so she could stare at him.

He swallowed again and Tifa had half a mind to put her lips _there_. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Vincent," she sighed. "_You're_ hurting me. You did nothing wrong in the hanger that day. I wanted it."

His eyes widened and she nearly expected them to bulge out of his face. Pulling him closer to her, he didn't fight this round as he leaned forward to accommodate her lack of mobility. His lips brushed hers, barely touching as she searched his eyes for any sign of forced response. Instead, she caught sight of unguarded hope.

"I don't want to compel you to do this," she reminded him.

His lips moved against hers, a feather of a touch. "You're not."

Vincent was the one to move forward, his bruised lips moving against hers gently till his tongue pried against her lower lip- begging entrance. Complying, she deepened the kiss further, letting him explore till he had to break away for a breath. His chest shuddered and he recoiled as her cool hand met the bruised skin of his cheek.

"Vincent?"

He grunted a response, his eyes flickering closed to enjoy her caress.

"Can you help me with something?" She pressed.

Another grunt.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

His eyes slowly opened and for the first time, she saw his chest shake with true laughter.


	15. His Turk Ways

****Important!**- I have the pleasure to announce that this fanfiction is being made into a manga by a lovely fan and is being posted online.**

**animexx,onlinewelten,com/doujinshi/thema/71/output/38296/**

**(Please replace the commas with periods.)  
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**The comic itself IS written in English. Just click on the cover page to take you to the comic. I am working with the artist (who is doing a very fabulous job) and we are making sure that the plot sticks together. Now, here is the new chapter for your enjoyment.**

**~J  
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"Was Orlando… one of them?" Tifa asked, adjusting herself amongst Vincent's accumulative pillows upon his bed. A chocobo could collide into her and yet, with all this cushioning, she would be able to leave the crash site unscathed.

Resting her arms upon the side pillows, she sighed as Vincent stared at her- dressed entirely, but without his cloak.

"Yes, it seems he was scouting the area…" The gunman wandered towards the full wall window, his gaze directed at the clouds billowing by- distored by The Shera's wake. Above the storm, the world seemed quite at peace with itself. "It was for the other… so that he knew where he could find you to strike…"

"And you got all this information, how? By just looking at him?" The martial artist frowned.

To her surprise Vincent smirked- his bruised lip straining to compete with the other side of his mouth. "I have my ways."

"Because you are a Turk, I take it that's all I'm going to get out of the subject, aren't I?" She threw up her hands. "It's all confidential you would say. I can hear it in my head. Curse your…" she bit her lip, struggling to find the words to sum up her frustration to his secretiveness. "Curse you're Turky ways."

Through her rant, his eyebrow rose. It was his own little quirk to show his amusement, that much Tifa had extracted from him during the long days at Seventh Heaven with him… the bar that was now destroyed. Still, the twitch the muscles in his face made- his stoic composure struggling to remain glued to his face, was something she could smile at herself.

Her determination to make him more liable to her humor would throw his reasoning and composure out the window.

"Ex-Turk," he said finally, his gruff voice a soothing melody to the hum of The Shera's engines. His eyebrow remained raised and Tifa scowled in return. It wasn't exactly fair he was teasing her to remain frustrated. Didn't it count that she was wounded or did Vincent find joy in seeing injured people desire to smack him? Maybe it was another one of his Turk ways, Tifa mused.

"You keep insisting that, don't you? Then get a new set of ways because all this professional assassin business is getting old." She eyed him, "At least they match you."

Vincent scoffed, folding his arms across his chest, keeping the gauntlet on top. "Are you insisting I am old Tifa Lockhart?"

"What do you think? I mean, you snipe people in the middle of a storm, or so you told me. You were tortured for information and managed to escape and you pretty much have the Bodyguard Handbook in your head. Maybe you wrote it for future generations."

He chuckled.

"I'm not a very good writer, I suppose that line of work is out for me." He tilted his head curiously, eying her with renewed curiosity. "Tifa, do you have a problem with how I am treating you? You have never voiced such… issues with my actions before. I destroy a few lives that have threatened your own and you suddenly become a critic of how I went about such business. Why?"

Tifa's eyes softened at the disappointment and sorrow in his voice. Suddenly she desperately wanted the chocobo to crash into the window and into her. Perhaps she would obtain some sense in the accident.

Shaking her head, she gawked as his face closed up- the sad smirk disappearing and his eyes hardening. "No, Vincent… I meant no harm in how you act. I just want information. I want to know why my life is in danger- no lies or abbreviations to the truth. That's what you used to do, wasn't it? Keep the truth hidden. As a Turk, I mean." She laughed, almost hysterically as she realized she was losing him. She was losing part of their friendship that they had been working on since he stepped into her bar that fateful day.

"Tifa…" Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh escaping past his thin lips.

Tifa's gaze challenged his- determined to knock some sense into him. "If you really want us… what we can have; what I am more than _willing_ to have, then you need to stop these Turk ways. I don't want any lies to be between us. I cannot always guess what's hidden in that voice of yours Vincent. I… I can't read minds no matter how much fun the idea would be."

It would have been a good moment to leave his room- stalk off like Vincent was known for, but she lacked the maneuverability. She was stuck until he chose to aid her back into her wheelchair. Maybe now he would refuse to do it entirely and she would be contained in his room to accumulate dust.

She closed her eyes, feeling a tear escape anyways. At least it was the cheek facing the wall rather than him. "Vincent… I _want_ us and yes, I am over and beyond Cloud before you ask. I realized my own stupidity of chasing him after he left… the third time. I'm not just pouncing on you because I need your pity. Once upon a time I did, in the sense of friendship, I guess. Now… I cannot stand being away from you."

The gunman was staring at her… hard. She could feel his eyes burning into her face, but she refused to look at him. Tifa continued, feeling her courage strengthen and die every other second. "I'm not asking you to transform into something you're not, because I like the way you are. No," she quickly corrected herself, finally turning to face him. "I _love_ the way you are. But some of those Turk ways need to stop Vincent. I don't want to be your prisoner forever."

His eyes widened noticeably. "You are assuming I am keeping you prisoner merely because I choose not to share the reasons for things?" He snorted cruelly, rubbing his injured lip unconsciously. "How dare you assume such."

Tifa's jaw dropped involuntarily. "Did you not hear me?! I love you and who you are! The tall dark and brooding type! I love all of it! But I want to be known on equal ground with you, not as some inexperienced child that knows little and does even less. You're only letting me in halfway," she rested a hand over her heart to symbolize what she was insisting. "That's how you're treating me!" And suddenly, she exploded; her patience finally meeting the end.

Allowing him to see the tears she had obscured with the help of the wall and her hair- she fully twisted her neck to glare at him. "I am not Lucrecia who needs your aid every minute! I am not the needy bitch that she was!"

Vincent's expression darkened with unspoken fury as he stormed to the door- throwing it open with his claw till it banged against the door. Staring out into the hallway, his voice came in a thick whisper.

"I will fetch Shera to aid you back into the medical facilities." He gazed at her, empty and devoid of any kindness. "Your love is not returned in any meaning of the word. I care for those who need it, nothing more. The kiss… both of them, were a mistake that I will not make again."

Vincent bowed professionally, sweeping his claw out from him before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Tifa remained amongst the pillows, feeling fresh tears fall… but these seemed to burn her skin as she sobbed silently. "It was a mistake?" She stared into her hands, noticing how the shook with such vigor.

Shera rushed in a moment later, her faced flushed from running. Gasping for breath and tucking loose strands of bronze hair behind an ear, she kneeled by the bed- clasping Tifa's hand with strength the martial artist never realized Cid's wife possessed. "What happened Tifa? Are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Inhaling a shaky breath, Tifa wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "No… I just realized I have put my feelings on something that will never exist. Again," her brow furrowed as her thoughts wandered to Cloud.

"Come on, dear. Why don't we take you to the kitchen. I'll cook you up something nice and hot." Shera pulled the wheelchair over with her free hand and carefully lifted Tifa up and out of the mass of pillows. Using the smaller woman for support, Tifa stumbled back into the chair and held no qualms as Shera pushed her out of the room and away from the horrible memories.

Yuffie intercepted them in the hallway, her hands naturally on her hips in a stubborn manner. Noticing the tear streaks, the ninja's grey gaze became enraged. "What did that monster do now?! That man isn't going to live to see another sunny day!"

Tifa held up her hand before Yuffie could obtain insanity- something she did more frequently than the norm. "Don't pester him Yuffie, he might shoot you before you get a word in."

"He wishes," Yuffie snarled back before stalking away. Turning the corner in front of them, Tifa winced as she heard Yuffie's bellows of Vincent's name.

"Do you think she's going to get injured?" Shera asked skeptically, though Tifa could hear the underlying worry.

"Only if he catches her."

Part of her wished that Yuffie would knock some sense into him, perhaps that part of her was the section where her love lied. Maybe if someone else spoke to him… no… there was nothing. Tifa was done with Vincent Valentine and anything to do with him. They would remain comrades when the world needed them… possibly if Sephiroth returned for the billionth time… nothing more than comrades.

* * *

He had chosen to hide in a place that he assumed was his own. The engine room, besides a few crew, was spacious enough where he could exist amongst the machinery and think under the loud drone of grinding metal.

Wedged between two of the massive cylinders powering The Shera, he settled against the wall- propping up one knee naturally for his arm to rest upon. Somehow, the sense of peace he had been hoping for was nonexistent and more weight lay upon his shoulders. He had lied. To both Tifa and himself in the action of what he was willing to commit to.

It was difficult to keep in mind did it all for her, even though she refused to see the understanding.

It was for her protection of course. Her death would be his to blame if she was captured like he had been. They knew who she was, how she was to him. If he didn't keep her at bay, they would find even a greater reason to hunt her down.

"Ya know, it isn't safe in here!" Yuffie cupped her hands over her mouth, leaning forward so her voice could carry. Vincent winced at the high pitch. She was within speaking range, not shouting range, though he assumed she already knew such a fact.

Glowering at her, he waited for her presence to vanish. It wasn't much to hope for, but he did hope just the same. He didn't need her quirky mood at the moment. Tilting his head, he frowned as she squirmed her way into his little abode amongst the engine- kneeling down in front of his stretched leg.

What surprised him, however, was the lack of 'quirky' she normally displayed. This facial expression reminded him of… anger?

"You're an ass!" She slapped his knee roughly- pounding on the closet thing in reach. "How dare you hurt Tifa, you bastard! You totally had my respect at one point and now you don't deserve anybody's!"

"If you are finished, I suggest you depart now," He growled, his upper lip curling in a slight snarl. He was in no mood to merely stand and ignore her rant and he couldn't escape in the position he was currently in.

"I'm not done until I say I'm done you wretched monster!" Again her hand landed upon his leg- an audible slap heard. The sting in his skin quelled his fury for a moment as he allowed her to continue.

"I used to feel sorry for you- always hoping you'd actually liven up and start dating a girl. Now I don't pity you at all! No one should, least of all Tifa! She's sacrificed so freakin' much for you and all you do in return is make her cry!"

Bubbling over, Vincent grabbed the front of Yuffie's vest- pulling her forward till she stumbled and facing him so closely that he could feel her breath against his face… or at least what wasn't hidden behind the cloak. Unlike he had hoped, Yuffie continued to express her rage.

"I. Do. Not. Love. Her. Understand such a concept Yuffie." With a shove he sent her sprawling backwards till she landed on her rear. Glaring at him, she rubbed the sore spot.

"You are a monster with no feelings at all. You just care about the job and the requirements of it." Standing, she dusted herself off, though there was nothing to remove on her small frame before sneaking back out of his hiding spot. Looking back, she scowled. "Get off Cid's ship."

Vincent never moved after Yuffie departed. His gaze remained fixed on where she had been, how her eyes kept him as some beast instead of a comrade. There he let his thoughts sink in, processing all of what had occurred.

He refused to check the time and only slipped free when his stomach rumbled for something other than fiend's blood. Wandering to the kitchen, he froze near the door- still hidden by the wall. Leaning his head in slightly, as though he was preparing to snipe one of them, he watched as Tifa made her way towards one of the cabinets without assistance.

The kitchen was a vast array of steel cabinets and countertops- able to serve the dozens of crew residing in The Shera. Tifa was handling the terrain as if she had lived on the ship for years. He could hear Shera humming somewhere beyond the wall he hid behind, though he couldn't catch a glimpse of her.

His heart shattered as Tifa reached for the cabinet far above her head- stretching in the wheelchair until she was beyond the safety limit of both injury and chair itself. It didn't take him long to realize the chair would slip from beneath her- the weight too uneven to be stable.

The grace he held was natural to him, even though Tifa would comprehend that the speed he used was inhuman. In a brief moment, he slipped through the door and lunged over the countertop separating him from her.

Placing one careful hand on her stomach and the other to steady the chair, he quickly eased her into place. Once she was seated and staring at him with a mixture of surprise and frustration, he reached up and opened the doors- eyeing what was inside.

"Pots?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to her.

"For dinner," Tifa's answer was quick and dry, leaving him behind.

"I see. Which one were you looking for?" He rummaged through them with his claw while leaning some of his weight upon the cabinet knob. The loud racket of metal on metal sent a shiver down his spine, though he knew most of his tingling skin was the glare he was receiving behind him.

"Go take your politeness and shove it out the window," she hissed sternly- shoving him out of the way with a palm against his side. Vincent moved with the shove, backing away and out of reach.

Once again she was stretching herself out of the chair in attempts to reach the object of attention. Vincent followed her gaze and noticed the large round pot, but fought with his morale to remain where he was. She insisted she didn't need help, so he would not interfere.

"Dinner will be ready in a bit Vincent. You can leave the kitchen," Shera sang out to him from the large iron stove on the opposite side of the room. With her back turned towards the two, she stirred whatever was boiling in a fairly large pot.

He slipped his foot out behind one of the wheels of Tifa's chair as he noticed it rolling back to slip from her again. Luckily for him, his act of kindness went unnoticed by the stubborn woman who had managed to grab the designated pot. Moving away lest he get caught from helping her otherwise, he let out a long and tiring sigh.

"I have decided to aid the women within the kitchen, is there an issue with such?" He opened the nearest drawer and withdrew a serving spoon, leaning against the counter and twirling the object in his fingers.

"Do we look like we need your aid? I thought Lucrecia was dead," Tifa responded, looking back at him as she expertly rolled herself over to Shera's side where she handed the pot over.

"Hey guys, did I tell you I found the stupid asshole hiding in… guess what… a tiny hole in the bottom of the ship. That rat thought he could out-smart Yuffie. Ha!" The ninja herself, bounded into the kitchen before freezing at the three stares she received- each one holding their own sort of reaction to her outburst.

"At least your claiming to be smarter than a rat," Vincent mused dryly- keeping the back of his waist glued to the edge of the cabinet.

Yuffie's wild gaze focused on Tifa, ignoring Vincent's response. The gunman watched with keen interest as Tifa beckoned the ninja forward and whispered a few words into the younger woman's ear.

"Bathroom break!" Yuffie exclaimed, quickly pushing Tifa out of the kitchen away from his eyes. Before the ninja disappeared, her tongue slipped past her tight lips at him.

"She's chosen to avoid me hasn't she?" He inquired, looking over at Shera's back for answers.

"I'm not her Vincent. I wouldn't know, now would I?" The woman turned and shook the spoon she was holding at him.

"Then perhaps I should ask the source," He rumbled, slipping away from the kitchen and dropping the spoon to the floor.

Vincent ignored Shera's cries of refusal and searched for the bathroom. Yuffie, who must have assumed Tifa's bodyguard status was standing before the door with her arms crossed. Her attention instantly flickered to his as his steps drew him closer to the door and the ninja.

"I'll break that jaw of yours off Vincent Valentine. Tifa's doing her business. Leave her alone."

There was no stopping him now, the glower he sent Yuffie's way should have forewarned her of trouble if she intervened. It didn't prevent her from attempting to stop him. Dodging her swinging fist with ease, he slipped past her lunge and into the bathroom. Spinning in place, he slammed the door closed and preceded to turn the lock.

Yuffie's incessant pounding and shouts of anger were muffled by the heavy door; but he eyed the shaking handle anyways, worried she would manage to rip the door off its hinges.

"She'll pick the lock."

Turning on his heel, he rested his back against the door for extra weight… just in case the ninja did manage to break in when he wasn't ready for her to do so. His assumptions had been correct of Tifa's intentions. The bathroom had been a refuge, and she remained in her wheelchair near the sinks along one wall- staring warily, not at him, but at her reflection.

"Then let us pray it takes her a moment," he nodded his head curtly.

"What else do you want Vincent? Come to shred my soul apart, or maybe torment my mind a little longer?" Within her lap, fingers battled together nervously.

Vincent shook his head, though she never noticed the action- too focused the woman looking back at her. Verifying the pounding door would remain closed, he pushed off and wandered over to her. Standing behind the chair- he stared at her through the mirror- watching as her gaze flickered up to his own. Leaning some of his weight on the handles behind her back with one hand, his other unbuckled the cloak and tossed it over one of the metal stalls.

Returning to his former position, he crouched even lower till his face was level with her own. Keeping his crimson focus on her mahogany through the mirror, he nuzzled the side of her head- burying his nose in her hair. Closing his eyes for what felt like forever, his lips found her ear.

"Tell me what your reflection shows…" He insisted. Tifa's face twisted in pain as she watched his performance, how his hands came to rest on her shoulders in a sign of affection- the way his forehead rested so he could easily speak into her ear.

"I don't know what I'm _supposed_ to see," she responded, her lower lip quivering in the hint of tears.

"What you want to see. Now tell me," Vincent's voice grew harsh, and she flinched away from him. Returning to his silence, she tolerated his presence as she continued to watch them through the mirror.

This was how she had to learn- how he would drive her away once and for all. Tifa didn't notice the grimace on his features that quickly disappeared…

"You…" Tifa sobbed, letting her sorrow spill upon her red blotched skin. "That's what I want."

Then he succumbed to what his intentions were. Turning his head so she could see his eyes through the mirror, he focused his attention on himself. "And what of this?"

The hunger swallowed him as his pupils thinned into slits and his canines elongated in preparation for a transformation. His skin darkened to a sooty grey and his chest caved in where the Protomateria materialized.

Once again, he dipped his head to hers, letting his teeth snap near her face- glancing over to stare at her horrified reflection. "And what of this?" He repeated. "Do you love this as well? Willing to want it… desire the rest of me that I hide?" His voice was gruffer, more an animal than a man and he was hating himself for it.

He would forever hate himself after this. Forever force himself to be alone because of what he was doing.

Without his cloak, Chaos would struggle to obtain his wings- a sacrifice he would have to make to show the power the demon possessed. The demon showed no remorse in breaking the skin of his back, molding its own wings for use without the cloak. The wings were distorted; merely skin covering the bones with no flesh in-between for flight.

Vincent felt the control, grasped it with everything his humanity lived for. Standing to his full height, he rested his claw over the Protomateria. His bright yellow eyes took in even the smallest details of her face- watching and waiting, as she remained still in her seat- shocked into horror.

Snarling at his reflection, at the monster beside the woman he cared about- he struck the glass. The mirror shattered, splinters tumbling to the floor. Tifa instinctively screamed, covering her mouth the muffle the sound.

The door swung open, Yuffie clutching a lock pick with Cid and Barret standing behind her. "Perfect timing," Vincent muttered, baring his teeth at the two men.

"Ah shit," Cid hollered, ignoring everything else and groping at a long metal tube at his waist.

Vincent froze, as well as Tifa. This was something new on Cid's person, and the gunman registered it upon it's firing. The netting wrapped around him as if to consume him whole while spikes attached to the sides propelled him into the wall- keeping him pinned.

The demon inside insisted he break free, send the ropes to a pile at his feet. His body, twisted and sprawled helplessly ignored the mental images of a ravaging demon. Clenching his eyes shut and holding a swallow of air, he waited for the beast to soften and allow his breed of control.

Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Tifa still riveted, but now turned to face his prisoned being. He couldn't even turn his head to look at her, beg her forgiveness, but plead that it had to be done.

Perhaps he overreacted at seeing the demon's reflection, what he secretly was standing there with the predator look in his eyes. But his comrades, or so he wished to call them, were overreacting to his mere presence.

"Tifa," He groaned, struggling to move and at least insist he was in control over Cid's shouts and Barret's furious bellows. She had to tell them it was all right, that he was powering the transformation and not the rage of Chaos himself.

Did she have enough kindness to him left to do the favor of letting him free? It didn't take him long to find the answer. No… she was hurting and blaming him- why would she let him free instead of watching him suffer as he had done to her.

"I said you was a danger to her!" Barret snarled, pushing himself into Vincent's line of vision. "You can't even hold back Chaos! So much for you bein' in control!" With his head pushed to the side, Vincent's only option was to look up at the giant.

"I am in control," He hissed, wincing at his own anger- now building at the reaction he was receiving. There was no truth in his words, no proof that it wasn't Chaos trying to pull a prank.

"Yer a liar Chaos." Barret's spat. Disappearing from his view, he could hear the anxious voice Cid who still remained in the doorway.

"We'll leave 'im here until he cools off. When the demon's gone, then we'll come fetch 'im." Cid sighed, and the click of a lighter was heard.

Vincent saw nothing after that, though he did hear the crew leave. To his surprise, he did manage to glimpse Tifa looking back at him, a blank expression on her features. The metal door closed and the lock clicked back into place- their muffled voices growing softer as the distance grew.

Closing his eyes, Vincent winced. "What have I done?"

It was hours before he could return to normal, his body trembling and merely being held up by the rope. His throat was parched and raw, and fatigue gnawed at his senses. The gloom from the small window showed the time, and Vincent's body felt it.

It was longer still until the door unlocked and swung open with a groan. Unable to see, his muscles tensed in preparation for a battle with Barret. Ready for the worst, Vincent opened his mouth, "I am in no mood to argue Barret."

"An' it's not Barret."

"Cid." Vincent wondered who would have been worse. Had his worry been placed on the wrong person to speak to?

"Ya are a dumbshit Vincent," the pilot grumbled. There was a flash of a knife before the ropes were cut at the spikes- letting Vincent's legs buckle and him tumble into a heap. Shoving the ropes off his arms and torso, he looked up at Cid- instantly noticing Tifa in her wheelchair behind him.

Cid glanced over his shoulder and grunted. "How are you doin' Tifa?"

Lowering his gaze, Vincent clenched his claw into the pile of tangled rope beneath him. Cid nudged the gauntlet with the toe of a boot. "Now don't go Chaos again or I'll haveta shoot again."

The gunman stole another glance at Tifa, and flinched as her eyes instantly found his. Her lips straightened into a thin line as she sighed her disapproval.

The spark in her eyes was gone. Vincent felt a pang of guilt; he had killed what life she had. She was a robot now, wallowing in her own depression.

…What had he done?

"Clever invention Cid. Now I know who to contact if things get out of hand."

"Like today?" Cid snorted.

"…like today." Vincent agreed. He refused to argue, and instead chose to know the truth himself. No one would believe him even if he tried. There had been too many instances in the past where the demon had chosen to coax freedom from the others- posing as Vincent Valentine.

"Well, ya are fine now. I'll be headin' back to bed." Waving his goodnight, Cid wandered off, but not before patting Tifa on the shoulder. Vincent watched the exchange, how she nodded her head before returning her unrelenting stare.

That was supposed to be his trick.

Resting the back of his head against the wall, he sighed. "Go get some rest. You are the one injured."

"I know." There was something there, something she was trying to hide. Vincent had little hope it was kindness. "But I break the rules."

"Of course."

She stopped him before he could continue a conversation, leaning forward to place a finger over his lips. "I get to talk," she insisted, once again sitting back into the chair, "because I want to know what you were trying to get at earlier. That was a stupid move, you know."

"But needed," He answered dryly. His brow furrowed at her challenging eyes, "You do not understand-."

"No, I do. I know what I'm up against. And I am more than willing to put my life on the line, just to be with you."

"I can't do that. I will not put you in danger." Vincent closed his eyes, unable to stare at her.

She shook her head stubbornly, "You should get some rest." A change in subject… Tifa was afraid? How could she be afraid of such a conversation?

Perhaps she wasn't ready for such. Vincent studied her this time, waiting for the twitch or flinch to show why she avoided him and what both of them needed to talk about.

It would be unhealthy if she chose to follow the silence. That he could exclaim first hand.

"I will rest here. I don't have the strength to return to my room." His heart was telling him to return to the subject, talk it out with her till her qualms were eased. But it couldn't be so, for she didn't seem to want it.

Tifa chewed at her lower lip, gnawing on it. She was thinking, he knew, and debating on whether to act it out. "Just do me a favor, please? You don't have to tell me anything, you don't have to change from your ways- just promise me one thing."

Suspicions arose before Vincent could quell them. Frowning, he sighed. "What is this wish?"

Her stare challenged him to tease her on what she saw as an important matter. He swallowed his concerns and waited for her to begin. "Can I stay with you for the night?"

"Here?" His voice was loud and cut into the darkness surrounding them. "Tifa, you are injured and need to be _comfortable_."

"Vincent please, allow me to stay. I won't bother you anymore after tonight. I just… want myself to let go, but I don't want to do it far away from you. It'll be harder then."

Vincent was stunned at her words, his eyes widening. She was letting him go, forcing herself not to love him. How he wished he could tell her the truth, tell her how he loved her as well. The aftermath of such an action however, would lead Tifa to her demise. Now she was willing herself to prevent her desires, her wishes and wants all for the sake of his own folly.

He couldn't continue the conversation with her because she was still clutching at him in her heart. She hadn't let go and the subject was too painful. Vincent winced; the concept too close to home. He had become an incarnation of Lucrecia's actions to him long ago.

Without reluctance, he nodded. There was no point in forcing each other to suffer any longer because of stubbornness. The dying ember of happiness faded in her eyes, the small upwards twitch of her lips as a silent thank you. Slipping from the chair, she dragged herself over to his side where she too rested her back against the wall. Her hand found the injury that ached beneath her clothes and he watched as she too stared at the memories that the pain brought her.

With a muffled sob, her eyes clenched shut and the tears began to fall- spilling down to stain her clothing. It was painful to watch her go through such agony, and to know that he was producing it was creating a deeper slash in his heart.

So why didn't he just tell her, and face the consequences together?

Ushering her into his arms until he had successfully dragged her into his lap- she curled up into him and cried- resting the side of her face into his shoulder. Vincent wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, nuzzling nose into the crown of her head in attempts at comfort- though he knew the contact was most likely making the sadness worse.

"Tifa, I have a promise to tell you," He whispered.

Using a thumb against her chin, he ushered her face up to see his. Wiping the tears away with the same hand, he kissed her forehead, trailing down to her lips with his own. Keeping them apart, he stared at her with sympathy.

"This is my promise, for I have decided I wish to keep what I am about to lose. I promise, with everything I have, that I am yours. I will forever be yours. But until our enemy is vanquished, I cannot be with you. They are looking for me, wishing for my death. _You_ are my weakness, and I cannot bear to watch helplessly as they torment you as well." He pressed his forehead against hers, expressing an encouraging smile at the astounded look displayed.

"A Turk's romance is always a secret," he finished. "And that is what we must be… if you still wish it."

"I thought you were an Ex-Turk?" Her voice was thick from crying, and a few more tears escaped, but life flickered in her eyes again.

"A Turk by heart," he continued his gentle grin.

"No, just another one of your Turky ways."

Vincent chuckled weakly, "I suppose you're right. But this one was not written in the handbook."

He let his lips find hers, molding himself to her and refusing to let go. He couldn't watch her spirit, her life die because he didn't want to be with her for her own good. He was causing more pain than anything else.

Tifa drew away first, the beginnings of a smile dancing across her face. Leaning her head back down into his shoulder, she made herself comfortable- her ear resting over his heart.

"Is that one a mistake too?"

"I apologize Tifa. I was too wrapped up in the idea of you injured, possibly dead that I was willing to let you suffer. I said lies to both you and myself…" It was difficult to explain, and as he struggled to find words, one of Tifa's hands found his claw- her fingers intertwining with his own.

"It's our little secret," she whispered.

And to his surprise, that was all that needed to be said because everything had been forgiven.


End file.
